


In My Veins

by sabbathgoat



Category: Mötley Crüe, The Dirt (2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood and Violence, Character Turned Into Vampire, Drug Use, Flying, Heroin, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Psychic Abilities, Psychic Bond, Rating May Change, Vampire Bites, Vampire Sex, Vampire Turning, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:53:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23587936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabbathgoat/pseuds/sabbathgoat
Summary: (MICK/NIKKI VAMPIRE AU)In 1987, Nikki Sixx couldn't find a high better than pushing the pump on a syringe and feeling heroin enter his veins.But things began to change after one fateful night with his needle, and a nightmare that started to feel way too real. His mind began to clear, his band was acting weird, and his guitarist was definitely up to something. And he could not for the shitty life within him, figure out why the fuck blood was suddenly so interesting.
Relationships: Mick Mars/Nikki Sixx
Comments: 19
Kudos: 30





	1. Intro- Red

**Author's Note:**

> I watched The Lost Boys recently, so this is 100% at fault of that. Definitely recommend that movie. I have a lot of plans for this so I am super excited for what's to come!! I hope you all enjoy <3
> 
> Prepare for a whole lot of teeth stained red...

**1987**

There was a fire in the crowd.

It was their biggest show yet, and there was a wall of flames engulfing the audience.

But the bodies weren't screaming, and that really confused him. The shadows of thousands of figures for miles to see remained standing strong, jumping to the sound of his bass. Tommy's drums. Mick's guitar. Vince's singing. They were reaching for something, their hands in the air and wails of approval ringing upon his ears. Their music thumped in the air over the sound of explosions that were melting people away before his eyes, like a heartbeat shared between every person rushing for the stage.

The flames crackled and grew higher, higher than his own house back home in L.A. They touched the black sky and showed no mercy.

Wait; Vince wasn't singing anymore- he was _chanting_. Chanting something over and over, no song that he had ever wrote. His fist was high in the air, praising the people burning around them. Before his hungry brown eyes, every word from his mouth melted the skin from whichever body he could see next, leaving nothing but a skeleton behind. His platinum hair was glowing bright red with only flames to light the way, and he looked like something Satan may disguise himself on Earth as. He turned form the crowd to look back at him, and the evil in his eyes held more power than the inferno on the horizon.

He wanted to yell at Vince to shut the fuck up, snap out of it and _run_ , but he couldn't. He was moving in slow motion. And his hands- they wouldn't stop playing. He couldn't hear what song they were performing, because suddenly the crowd wasn't cheering. They were dying- screaming and wailing in misery, _agony_ , burning away to the world of fire around him.

Sweat dripped in his eyes, but he saw the sky turn red through the haze. Everything was red- it was a thousand degrees, and he couldn't look away from those burning red skeletons. Hundreds and hundreds of bones upon bones, falling together to the sounds of screams. The fire grew, and he felt it boil his blood.

His world was a blazing wall of flames, and he couldn't stop playing.

The hands were no longer reaching for Vince; they were reaching for _him_. They grabbed at his ankles, with melted flesh sticking to his boots. He looked down to the ground far beneath, and saw blood run in rivers.

When he looked up to cry out to Vince, he couldn't see him. Vince was not there.

He looked to the right for Tommy. Tommy and his kit were gone, now replaced with people piled together as they ignited with blood curdling screams.

He looked to the left for Mick, and Mick had vanished.

Suddenly there was no music.

It was no concert.

It was only he- standing upon charred bones with a red hot world of fire slaughtering everything around him. Those hands grabbed his feet until they died a blackened mess frozen in place around his laces.

He screamed for them to _stop_.

But he couldn't hear his own voice. He couldn't hear anything but death, pain, fire, fire, and _more fucking fire._ The fire was hungry, and it had eaten his world.

When he tried to scream again, with everything his entire being could muster up, he thought he finally heard himself.

But he woke up before he could get a word out, and fell from his bed onto the carpet floor.

 _"FUCK!"_ Nikki screamed as loud as those bodies had been, as he thrashed on the ground wrestling with his blanket. A fit was had of kicks, punches, and rolling around to get whatever was attacking him off, until eventually he smacked his head against the wall. The pain in his skull and the echo in the room was enough to finally snap his brain back to reality, and he could take a deep breath.

 _"Fucking hell!"_ Nikki gasped, then gasped again. _"Fuck..."_ The only word he seemed to remember, as he caught his breath and remembered where he was. There was no fire, no screams, no Hell raising around him... Just echos left ringing in his ears.

His bed was next to him, unkempt and missing both it's person and the only blanket it knew. Just as Nikki had left it. His window was on the other side of him, with the curtains drawn as usual. The full moon was just a sliver of light between them, illuminating his bedroom barely enough to see.

_Just a dream._

He didn't know what time it was, but that didn't matter because the sun was down anyways. He had nowhere to be.

 _Fuck, he really had to stop going to bed with a needle in his arm._ He still loved heroin because she loved him back, but _man_ did she bring wicked dreams sometimes.

That was okay. He could forgive her.

_But where the fuck was she!?_

Nikki finally kicked the blanket from his ankles and used the bed frame as a crutch to pull himself up, swaying on unsteady legs. His hair was plastered uncomfortably to the side of his neck, because apparently the fire in his dream was hot enough to make him sweat up a storm in real life. He felt around the dark for his lamp, and turned it on after nearly knocking it to the ground.

There she was- his prized needle left on his mattress where it had fallen from his arm and sent him away to that horrid place. Nikki could still hear those screams in his head, crying to him and grabbing his feet. He could still feel the hands on his ankles. Smell that smoke. Feel the flames.

The voices had sounded as if they were _thanking_ him in their cries for mercy. As if it was the day of reckoning brought on by Motley Crue. _Why did they sound like that?_

Nikki didn't want to know, and didn't want to remember. And when he didn't want to know or remember something, he made love.

He fumbled across the mattress for his needle, picked her up, and shot what was left inside away to his veins.

_All the women he'd been with, and she always made him feel the fucking best._

It only took three seconds until he couldn't recall what had him so sweaty, or why his blanket was on the floor. He was slouched on the headboard, and the next time he blinked, the sun was up.

He thought he had a band practice for something, but couldn't remember what time it was at. _Oh well_. He brought his forearm up to his mouth when he pulled his needle out to lick up the blood, but it was already dry.

***

Nikki probably should have taken a shower, considering he was starting to smell _himself_ , but settled for a change of clothes and splashing his face in the sink before walking down to the kitchen. At least, walking was how _he_ described it. If anyone had been there to witness his trip through the house, they would have called it something more like pathetic hobbling.

Nikki realized as he passed through the living room, that he had left the TV on through the night. The news was playing on the screen, and he stopped in his fumbling tracks when a certain image popped up.

The title read _'Young Man Found Dead in Alley,'_ with a scene playing of a bloodied body being taken away on a stretcher, covered in a while sheet. Nikki usually didn't give a shit about anything going on in the world, so maybe it was the news lady's breasts looking a little too good in her shirt, but he quickly found himself turning the volume up and watching the story.

A man his age had been found in an alley just a mile down the street, with half his throat missing.

 _What the fuck?_ That was some movie shit, Nikki thought. Who the fuck takes out someone's _jugular?_ L.A. sure as hell had some sick freaks with a capital F out there. And they wanted to give _him_ shit for just shooting up? Screw them. They should pay more attention to murders like that. _Fuck, they even had pictures of all the blood staining the concrete at the scene going in a sideshow..._ Nikki's blinds had been shut tight for many days now to block out the sun and anyone lurking in the bushes outside, so the pictures from the TV casted his living room in a bright red haze.

A lot of red. That was a lot of motherfucking red. _Just like his goddamn dream..._

That would make a pretty wicked song, he idly thought.

Nikki's stomach suddenly growled loud enough to make him forget the story as soon as it ended, but he cursed the world when he remembered the fridge had been empty all damn week.

***

"What the _fuck_ is wrong with you?"

Mick never spoke like that to Nikki, so the bassist was a little star struck in awe when he stumbled through the double doors to their recording studio and was greeted with an angry guitarist. He knew he should have snapped at Mick because that old fucker wasn't in charge, rather than stare at those icy eyes as he debated giving him a punch instead... Too bad he fucking adored Mick's voice, and it put him in a trance when he was still high. He would like to see the look on that old man's face if he ever did knock the shit-

 _"Nikki!"_ Mick snapped again. _Wow; twice in one day from his loyal friend._

"What? I'm here!" The last ounce of heroin in his bloodstream began to fizzle out, and Nikki wasn't digging that very much. But Mick was still staring at him, so that was a good distraction.

"You're three hours late. Vince _left_ ," Mick spat as if Nikki was a student not paying attention to the most simple lesson in class. It probably _was_ a simple lesson in reality, but nothing was simple in Nikki's life anymore.

_"Fine, fuck him, we don't need him-"_

_"Yes we do!"_ Mick was almost yelling, and Nikki couldn't tell if he wanted him to do it again. He then looked over to see Tommy sitting at his drums across the room looking much too slouched, his brown gaze avoiding both of them. He looked like he was crying. Nikki didn't like that. When he frowned at his friend to ask what was up, Mick spoke again. "I don't have _time_ for this, Nikki. I got fucking _bills_ to pay, I've gone to jail once for not paying child support and I can't fucking afford to go again!" Mick was yelling good now. Nikki could only stare at him. _"What the fuck is wrong with you!? Why can't you just fucking kick those drugs and do your fucking job!"_

Nikki loved Mick. He really did. Maybe a little too much, although he didn't really give a shit if so. But as much as he loved his Mick Mars, he wasn't allowed to insult his fucking drugs. Heroin was the only thing that loved him back, and Mick wasn't about to act like that fact was anything fucking otherwise.

 _"Fuck you!"_ He had his hands on Mick's jacket in the blink of an eye, and had him shoved against the wall in another one. Tommy jumped up on instinct when Mick hit the wood but flinched away, and Nikki knew the youngest was too scared to try and stop him. He gripped Mick's leather jacket in his fists so hard they began to shake, and he heard a stitch pop on the zipper.

A throw like that should have knocked the wind out of a guy like Mick. But Mick was just standing there, straight up and breathing right between Nikki and the wall. He was staring up at the bassist, with eyes so bright Nikki suddenly felt the last drop of heroin's precious love fade away from his veins. And he was just _tired_.

_So tired._

His hands slid from Mick's jacket, and his huge mess of hair seemed to suddenly weigh his head down.

Nikki didn't remember walking to the couch and flopping down on his side, which was also weird because he was pretty sure he was decently sober now. Fucking _exhausted_ , but sober none the less.

Nothing happened around him for five minutes. Or maybe ten. He didn't know. Maybe he fell asleep for a moment, because his body was really fucking heavy, just like his mind.

_He wanted to nap._

Nikki cracked open an eye and saw Mick's legs stalk by in front of him, then felt him sit next to his head. He never realized before, but those black sweatpants his friend was sporting really fit his thighs pretty good. They didn't match his plain t-shirt and leather jacket, which also didn't match the fucking white tennis shoes on his feet, but the look of his older friend suddenly made Nikki feel a warm flood of sexual innocence fill his chest. _Damn_ , he was in need of a strip club visit and _soon_ , if he was starting to eye up Mick Mars now.

 _"'M sorry, Mick..."_ Nikki hoped he wasn't crying, because it sounded like he was.

"I know," Mick mumbled. Nikki really loved his voice when he got like this. So sweet, and so high pitched for a scary looking fucker like him.

 _"I had a dream..."_ Nikki mumbled through his sleepy haze, but it came out as a whine.

"'Bout what?" Mick placed a hand on his unwashed hair. He waited a moment for Nikki to accept it, before petting him slowly down to his neck.

Nikki tried to remember the dream. It had painfully awoken him up in a wild fluster-fuck of emotion, because he was pretty sure he was dying in flames when he fell out of bed.

"Uh... fire, I think. I think you guys died, and like... all these people at our show were on fire or some shit," Nikki sniffed against the leather sofa as his mind fired up the only sober train of thought it owned.

"Sounds pretty shitty. I'm sorry I yelled at you," Mick whispered. Nikki angled his head up to prod his nose against Mick's thigh, suddenly pretending he was still a little bit high.

 _"No, I deserve it. I'm sorry I waisted your time."_ He wanted to look over and see how Tommy was doing, but sleep suddenly broke the lock on his mental door. He felt his body give way to the blanket of unconsciousness as his mind slipped away.

All he remembered as he passed out, was Mick's hand at his ear. His touch was soft and gentle, unlike the pleasuring sting heroin always gave him.

***

Nikki woke up on the couch again, but Mick was gone.

He sat up and hated how sober he felt. _Fuck, he wanted his drugs_. At least a line of coke, to get that dead weight off his limbs... Nikki tried to stand and go find them, because he was pretty sure he left a stash in their studio somewhere, but the lack of food or water in his system had finally decided to catch the hell up.

 _"Fuuuuuuuck,"_ He moaned out as a headache pounded on his skull. He could feel his heartbeat dancing in his gut. _That was why he hated being sober. It left only pain, loneliness, and bullshit._

Nikki tried again to stand, but fell back on his ass halfway there. The doors opened as he did so, and Mick walked in.

His guitarist said nothing as he walked over to Nikki and stood in front of him. He was still dressed the same, and still in those adorable fucking grown-up, normal-person shoes, so Nikki hoped it at least wasn't the next day.

"You good?" Mick tested.

 _"No,"_ Nikki pouted. "My fucking head hurts, and I'm hungry, but my stomach is _killing me_." He aggressively wiped at his dry eyes as Mick kept staring down at him.

"Come on, let's eat."

_"No, go away, I'm pathetic. I want my fucking blow, where's Tommy?"_

"Tommy went home, now get your ass up," Mick ordered. He sounded too sweet to scare Nikki, so the bassist stared back up at him. Rage started filling his chest like a faucet, because it had been way too fucking long since he'd shot up. Mick didn't know about his habits- or maybe he did, because Mick was smart and no one could really miss the holes in Nikki's arms- but if so, he played dumb. And he was being dumb now, by thinking Nikki would ever want to do anything right then in that moment _but_ heroin.

" _No_." Nikki squirmed in his seat, now pissed at both Mick and his own legs for feeling so heavy so he couldn't run away.

"Nikki, you were asleep for five hours, now get the hell up and quit pouting," Mick shifted in annoyance. _Well too fucking bad, because Nikki was annoyed too._

He lifted his boot-clad foot to kick Mick square in the crotch, but as soon as his heel was in the air just inches from Mick's waist, he felt way too tired again. Or more so, _relaxed,_ in a weird and fucked up way... He felt the rage drain through the plug Mick seemed to have pulled, as if it had filled in his head, ran down his body, and fell out his ass. He dropped his foot to the ground again in slow motion, the scowl leaving his face.

Mick stood like an experienced warrior through it all, and waited until Nikki yawned again to speak.

"Nikki..." Mick was begging now. Nikki didn't like that either.

"What?" He just wanted to cry. But he couldn't, because Mick was right there, and he was.... well, _Mick_. Mick hated cry babies. And so did Nikki.

Mick examined him for a moment, and Nikki wondered how sober he actually was because he suddenly couldn't tell what his older friend was thinking of him. He stared up at those pretty blue eyes, begging for Mick to give him a hint as to how disappointed he was in his bassist. Or angry. Or hurt. Because Nikki sure as hell was all those things at himself...

"Come with me, now," Mick ordered in a soft tone. It ended the small war in the younger man's head immediately. Nikki was off the couch as asked. He was then silently following Mick out the door, while itching at the holes in his left arm.

"Where are we going?" He itched his head next, wondering how flammable his sticky hair currently was. _Or how bad he probably smelled..._

"To feed your scrawny ass. You're so skinny, you'll be giving Tommy a run for his money here pretty soon," Mick threw his shades on before pushing open the door to the outside world, and Nikki groaned. The sunlight raining down on him felt like a bitch slap to his entire damn body that robbed his small bit of energy away. _He remembered why he left his curtains closed all the fucking time_. Mick didn't say anything as he ducked his own head, practically limped across the parking lot, and made haste in getting to his sexy car.

" _Slow_ _down_ ," Nikki hissed as Mick unlocked his doors, and waited for Nikki to hit the passenger one before climbing in. Nikki used all his energy up prying the door open, and fell to his seat with a grunt as if he suddenly weighed a thousand pounds. "You say funny things, old man," Nikki found enough self solace to grin a little. Mick put his seat belt on like a good boy, and Nikki drank up the sight like it was the water he was craving. Mick also looked funny too; a dude beyond his time, with long black hair, sweat pants and tennis shoes, a leather jacket to match, sitting behind the wheel of a blood red 76' Corvette Stingray. But Nikki would never say that outloud.

"How so?" Mick looked at him from behind his huge shades.

"I don't even know what _'run for his money'_ means," Nikki shifted in his seat. His knees hit the dashboard, and he thrashed around a little bit. It felt like his head was buzzing, and he was beginning to think about heroin again...

"Put your seat belt on," Mick spoke gently. Nikki was surprised that he actually listened. He wouldn't be very opposed to go flying through that windshield, the more he thought about it. But Mick probably wouldn't like that a whole lot. Not because his bandmate would die a nice glassy death, but because it would fuck up his gorgeous car. _Well, at least the paint was red enough to hide all the blood._

He zoned out as soon as the loud car started up, and Mick began driving. _Fuck_ , it felt like a damn cradle and he was some overgrown baby... Rocking along the speed bumps, swerving around pot holes, Mick flooring it after every stop sign... At least he didn't _drive_ like an old man, Nikki mused. Mick was pretty wild behind the wheel, as he sped enough for a hefty ticket down the cramped streets of the city.

It was nice out, too. Nikki hadn't seen the sun a whole lot lately, because he had gotten into a little brawl with it the other day, but... it felt pretty good right now. _Maybe he could sniff out some forgiveness and open his windows a little later_. The vibration of the engine, natural warmth in his skin... He leaned his head against the window and closed his eyes, so he could use his small bit of energy to speak.

"Why are you taking care of me like some kind of fuckin' friend?" Nikki moaned.

"I _am_ your friend, Nikki..."

Mick sounded a little hurt. It was something Nikki wouldn't have noticed if he wasn't so sober. He lifted his head and looked over at Mick, who was watching the road. No emotion painted his face, but Nikki had learned along the way that Mick was rather skillful at hiding things like that. They were also the things that Nikki couldn't handle very well with his own two hands, so he did what heroin taught him well to do: avoid it.

 _"You're too fucking nice, weirdo. Gonna get hurt one day,"_ Nikki sniffed and shifted in his seat.

"I've already gotten hurt," Mick mumbled. He swerved the car to park in a spot on the street, in front of a small restaurant Nikki used to regularly go to when they first started getting decent money in. He didn't think he had ever told Mick about it, so as he wondered how Mick knew about it, the guitarist killed the engine and looked over at him. Nikki stared back. He couldn't see Mick's eyes past his dark sunglasses.

"By who?" Nikki beat him to it.

"My wife. My girlfriend. My kids. _You_ ," Mick mumbled the last part. Nikki pondered on some possibilities as to why that comment didn't piss him off at all. "They've all done some pretty shitty things to me," Mick stated quietly. Nikki had no idea what to say. He didn't much like that familiar sadness he worked so hard to kick out begin crawling in his heart again. If he had heroin to fill those holes, then sadness wouldn't be able to fit. Mick was kind of ruining his chaotic coping system at the moment, making him feel so many uncertain and shitty things...

"What did your wife do?" Nikki asked.

Mick thought for a moment, sitting in silence and watching Nikki from behind those shades. Nikki wished he had the courage to reach over and take them off; he liked eye contact with people. Especially Mick.

_"Nothing, forget it."_

Nikki forgot it pretty easily. He wondered if he should label that as a personal skill: forgetting about shit he didn't like.

***

Nikki didn't know how long they were there. His time began to blur as his brain ached for another hit of _something_ , _anything_ , as he was desperate for just an _ounce_ of relief. He couldn't sit still in the small wooden chair at the table, much unlike Mick who sat like a fucking statue. The guitarist ordered for him when Nikki made it apparent that he couldn't read the menu very well for some reason, and spent the entire time watching his younger friend shove a whole plate of fries and a burger in his face. Nikki didn't even know if Mick ate anything. He was too busy inhaling his own food, because _fuck_ , he couldn't remember the last time he'd had a decent meal.

He was glad Mick didn't question him on anything else. Or maybe he wanted to but couldn't find a moment to interrupt his friend's embarrassing scarfing down of dinner, and that's why he was so still and quiet. Nikki didn't really care. He was fucking _starving_ , and cleaned his plate pretty damn good at an inhuman speed.

The drive back was spent in silence as Nikki's stomach battled to remember what food was, until he reached for the radio only to have his hand smacked away.

"The fuck, Mick!" Nikki whined. "Why don't you listen to music when you drive? _Freak_."

"I am a freak," Mick said. No emotion in his soft voice. Nikki hated how innocent he sounded.

"Yeah I _know_ that. But why not?" Nikki rubbed his hand, wishing Mick had been willing to hurt him a little more to help with the beginning withdraw.

"Don't need to," Mick grumbled.

"You're the first fucker I've ever met that plays guitar, and _doesn't_ want to listen to music," Nikki rolled in his seat to face Mick. Mick simply shrugged.

"I don't give a shit about anyone else's music," He stated. Nikki grinned at that.

 _"Hmpf. I like the things you say,"_ He whispered through a chuckle. Mick finally grinned with him.

"Oh? I thought what I said was just _funny?"_ He glanced at Nikki. Nikki suddenly noticed that despite the sun setting just a few minutes ago, Mick still had his glasses on. _Weirdo_.

"Hmm, that too," Nikki yawned. Mick didn't yawn with him, which in an annoying way hurt Nikki's feelings. He had read somewhere once that people were supposed to yawn together if they loved each other, or were connected, or some shit like that. Maybe it was just a bunch of bullshit news. Or maybe it had been a dream his mind made up when he'd gotten high one night.

"Hey, Mick?" He mumbled after a few minutes. His head was starting to hurt again, wondering where it's 10cc's of relief was.

"Hmm?"

"You ain't gonna leave, right?"

"What?" Mick glanced over at Nikki. The younger was slouched over on his side, facing Mick the best he could. "Leave what?"

"The band."

"Fuck no, why would I?" Mick frowned at the road ahead.

 _"'M sorry I grabbed you. I ain't ever done that shit before,"_ Nikki confessed quietly. Mick was quiet some more, until Nikki's sober heart started beating a little faster. Mick Mars was the only person he'd ever want to apologize to. _He couldn't tell that to Mick though._

"It's okay, Nikki. I understand."

"No, I probably hurt you. I'm sorry I'm such an asshole all the time, I don't even know why I am..." Nikki really hated how emotional he got when he wasn't high off his ass. But he couldn't tell Mick that either. _Why couldn't he just be sober like a normal person!?_

Mick stopped at a red light and held his hand out to Nikki, hovering it over the center console.

His skin was illuminated red from the light outside, and Nikki suddenly remembered his dream again. It made his stomach churn in nervousness, because Mick suddenly looked close to identical to the bodies glowing in that fire. His face, neck, and hands were that bright crimson up to where they disappeared under his jacket. Just like the glowing blood in that crowd. And Vince's hair. And the fucking sky.

 _Shit, maybe Mick was on fire too!_ Nikki moved harshly in his seat to sit up, but didn't know if he wanted to open the door and run, or reach out and slap Mick's face to get that color away-

 _"Take it,"_ Mick suddenly whispered at him before he could decide.

"What, no!"

_"It's okay, Nikki."_

"W-Why do I wanna touch your hand, you're so weird-" But before Nikki could even finish his sentence, it appeared his brain decided to disobey and he soon had his fingers wrapped awkwardly around Mick's. He sat back in his seat, and Mick didn't say a word.

_What the fuck?_

Mick's skin was cool to the touch. Nikki wondered why that was, considering it was about to be June in California, his circulation should be strong from years of playing guitar, and he was glowing red hot. No, wait, Nikki remembered; that was just the light outside. There was really no reason his hand should feel so chilled... Or fuck, maybe Nikki was just running a fever for all he knew. It wouldn't be the first time. _How long had they been gone?_ Nikki was so far overdue for a shot of heroin, he knew his brain was probably starting to cook. But he didn't feel hot at all, nor sweaty... _Fuck_ , he was surprised his withdraw wasn't attacking him so harshly today as Mick toted his pathetic ass around.

He suddenly moved his hand to properly hold Mick's, lacing their fingers together and even daring to rub his thumb over the older man's forefinger. Mick said nothing. It was much more dark outside now, and his other hand left the steering wheel to finally take his shades off.

It was unbeknownst to Nikki as to why, but he felt a wave of calmness come crashing down on him. He wondered if Mick was some kind of physic healer, and if he could maybe help Nikki get the fuck off heroin. But to do that, he would have to first tell Mick he was _on_ heroin. And he really didn't want to do that. As nasty as Nikki got, Mick was still his friend. His good friend, that he probably really didn't deserve the kindness from.

He wished he knew how to give some of it back.

Poor Mick. _His_ Mick. His old man guitarist that was too kind to a piece of shit like Nikki that didn't even reciprocate that kindness back.

_Fuck Mick and his big heart, always loving people and getting hurt because of it. When will he learn love wasn't in the books for people like them?_

Nikki expected Mick to dump his ass off back at the studio so Nikki could get his car, but in the few minutes Nikki had zoned out watching their hands hold each other, Mick had taken him home. _His_ home. His prison of a mansion that held his most beloved needle waiting inside for him.

"Oh..." Nikki whispered. He kept hold of Mick's hand.

"Nikki?" Mick looked over at him. Nikki met his gorgeous eyes. "Do you want me to come inside?"

Nikki did want him to. But he couldn't let him. He couldn't puke up the dinner Mick paid for at his feet after he shoved a needle in his arm, and hurt his friend like that.

"No. I'm fine. Thanks, for all that..." Nikki forced himself to let go of Mick's hand.

"Please be careful. Don't go wandering around outside," Mick sounded a little fearful.

"Why?"

"Just don't."

Nikki suddenly surprised himself by remembering something else from that morning.

"Why, is it cause that kid got his head ripped off yesterday?" He snickered at the memory of the news story he'd watched.

"His head wasn't _ripped off,_ dumbass. And let's just say that... yeah. _It is_." Mick sounded too serious. Nikki didn't like seriousness, or fear anymore. He liked Mick better when he was drunk at the club with them, dogging on the strippers that had the worst asses or tits. Or when he was holding his hand like a few minutes ago. That may be something new and something that only lasted a moment in time, but Nikki found himself craving it again. Just like heroin.

"Okay, fine," Nikki sighed. He opened his door and knew he should probably say goodbye to Mick, but closed it before his brain had time to make the mistake of spilling those feelings from his guts. So he looked at Mick through the windshield, waved at him, and made his way to his front door. Mick didn't drive away until Nikki found the key under the mat, unlocked the door, and shut it behind him.

The headlights from Mick's car danced through his blinds over the front room, before disappearing with the sound of the engine down the road.

When darkness enveloped him all alone in his house that held so many horrors, Nikki briefly imagined what Mick would look like if the old man got _his_ throat ripped out. And if Nikki would be able to see all the blood staining his dark hair...

He shuddered at the thought, and felt that vomit start to rise up early. He doused the pain of that image with a better one- one that involved a needle in the crook of his elbow.

Nikki didn't know what else to do after that, so he went to his room to find his syringe. He wondered shortly about the real reason as to why Mick would tell him not to go outside, but lost the thought as soon as the needle kissed his arm.


	2. Be Somebody

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reality as a young bassist knows it is lost.

The next week passed by painfully uneventfully for the most part, according to Nikki's opinion. Or maybe it just felt that way because he couldn't seem to stay sober for a day in his life anymore. Something was blowing wrong in the wind, but that was one thing Nikki couldn't control- and he hated shit he couldn't control. So he made it quite easy to forget with the help of a bottle, some blow, and a spoon.

He was sick and stuck in a loop, until something interesting finally happened.

Motley was supposed to be preparing for their _Girls_ tour that would begin next month, but the bassist couldn't focus on a single thing for a single second. So he, Vince, and Tommy had made an eager decision to head down to their favorite strip club one night to blow off steam from rehearsals that recently weren't going so well.

The night was crisp as Nikki drove there by himself, planning to meet up with his two friends when he got there. The moon was black against the navy sky, not a drop of its sickly light hanging out with the stars. It was eerie, and Nikki loved it. It was the perfect night for a murder, and he briefly played with the idea of asking Tommy if later he wanted to go beat the shit out of that guy that had started a fight at their last party.

Nikki had stuck a needle in his jacket pocket and kept one hand wrapped safely around it as he parked and walked inside, because he needed just _one_ more hit to get through the night without killing himself. _Or someone else._ Tommy had found a table along with their singer when Nikki caught up with them and had a girl in his lap in two seconds, but Nikki needed to take care of his shit first. The music and energy of clubs they hit up lately had been giving him some killer fucking headaches, and only his smack seemed to tame them down.

He slithered through the crowd on a mission to find the bathroom, and when he finally locked the door behind himself and fell next to the toilet, he pulled his tools out. The music of the club was just muffled white noise.

As he cooked his heroin, part of him wished Mick had agreed to come that night. He had gotten pretty good lately at making Nikki forget about his deadly habit, even if for just a moment. The bassist wondered if Mick started trying to do something about his addiction after putting two and two together, but didn't dare ask.

They had gone to dinner one more night after the first time Mick picked Nikki's ass up off the studio couch one week ago, and it was even better than the first. Mick bought him a five star meal at a restaurant that was really too fancy for them both in Malibu, but Nikki was beyond grateful for it anyways. Mick had even let him hold his hand again on the way home too.

Nikki watched his drugs boil as he remembered the day. The sun had set as Mick drove them down the shore, and Nikki thought he had maybe actually found one more thing that brought him uncontainable joy besides shooting up.

Mick was never embarrassed to be seen with Nikki, despite how gross the bassist knew he looked. He wondered how Mick's own home life was, or if he was just lonely and desperate for some kind of company... He was such a nice fucker, Nikki also wondered if he just felt an obligation to buy shit for _someone_ on a regular basis. He didn't know if Mick was sleeping with any girls at all, but apparently Nikki was that someone.

 _"Nikki?"_ He had quietly asked one night as they sat on Mick's back porch step.

 _"What?"_ Nikki was bathing in the relief of not feeling sick with withdraw as he sat too close next to the guitarist. Half the moon had been glowing down on them, and he nursed a cigarette down to a stub.

_"You got plans for the future at all?"_

_"Besides bringing Motley to the top of the world? Nope."_

_"Nothing?"_

_"No, fucker,"_ Nikki had giggled and leaned against Mick's side. He felt drunk, despite not having had a drink all night. _"Why?"_

 _"Nothing. Just curious,"_ Mick grinned and played with a blade of grass he had plucked. _"Stay here tonight,"_ He leaned over to whisper in Nikki's ear. Nikki didn't go home that night. He had woken up on Mick's couch, but didn't remember falling asleep there.

He wondered why the man didn't have a girlfriend yet; he practically treated Nikki like one.

The bassist noticed then, after the haze of his daydream fizzled out, that the walls of the bathroom were painted blue. Just like Mick's eyes. Nikki stared at them and thought about his friend's intent gaze, as he broke his skin over the bruises and pumped his work into his body.

 _Yeah. Mick could make him forget some shit_.

But so did smack.

And only one of those things was there for him right now.

Nikki originally had a well thought out plan to hide, shoot up, and stumble back outside to sit with Tommy and shove his face in a nice girl's chest, but he apparently could only make it the first two steps. His ass felt like it was suddenly full of shit made out of lead, and he couldn't stand up if his life depended on it. The lights above him flickered oddly, as if trying to send a message in some kind of morse code. It made his eyes fucking _hurt_.

His head rolled to the side as the room went silent around him, and Nikki soon found it resting on the tank of the toilet at his side. _Gross. Fucking gross, that was..._ But he didn't want to move. His legs were tingling. He was burning up, which was so damn weird because usually heroin didn't give him any issues like that. _Was she mad at him?_

The leather pants and vest he was dressed in soon felt like an oven, and Nikki could feel sweat bead at his temples and lower back. _Fuck, he wished Mick was there_. _Maybe he would know why his high wasn't working right. Did he make it wrong? He never made it wrong, not ever... Fuck! That was all he had, that was supposed to last him all night! And it wasn't even starting properly!_

He wanted to get up and break something because his arms were the only thing buzzing with adrenaline, but they were suddenly made of lead too. All of him was. Someone was talking on the other side of the wall, and he thought they were saying shit about him... He wanted to bang on it and tell them to shut up. Maybe he did. He couldn't remember, because the voice was gone as soon as it was there.

He was heavy, he was hot, and he was _scared_.

Nikki Sixx was scared.

So many things to fear in a sleazy part of L.A. when half the world wanted you dead, and there he was: fearing his drugs wouldn't make him feel good enough.

Pathetic.

Nikki Sixx felt pathetic.

_He missed Mick..._

***

Nikki didn't remember how he made it back to the table eventually, but somehow, someway, he did. He fell onto his seat next to Tommy as his drummer whistled way too loudly at some chick, and groaned when it made his eardrums rattle.

"There you are, what the fuck dude!" Tommy clapped him harshly on the shoulder. That hurt too. _Heroin was supposed to make Nikki fell insanely strong, not like a fucking wuss._ "What's wrong, got the shits?" Tommy and Vince laughed at him.

 _"Fuck you,"_ Nikki didn't meant to sound that angry. He was going for lighthearted, not... whatever _snarl_ just came out of him.

"Shit, sorry," Tommy mumbled. A look of weird confusion painted both their faces. Nikki hated himself because he knew his snap probably ruined Tommy's whole night; his friend didn't deserve that shit. He saw Vince give him a nasty look as Nikki fumbled around trying to apologize.

"T-Bone, I-" But he couldn't finish. _What was he saying sorry for, again?_ "Sorry, I just..." Tommy was looking at him, but the drummer wasn't mad. Or sad. In fact, he looked a little worried now. And so did Vince. "What?" He questioned them.

"Dude, your arm's like, _bleeding_ ," Tommy stared down at Nikki's arm. When the bassist peered down at it with him, sure enough he could see why that was something to be concerned about. A thick stream of crimson red was flowing from Nikki's abused veins, staining the purple holes around it, running all the way to gather in his palm and then drip to the floor from his fingertips.

"Oh, shit," Nikki wiped his running nose with his clean hand and held his bleeding arm in the air. "Uh..." Tommy was gazing at him like he had a fucking dick drawn on his forehead. _Shit, shit, shit!_ He didn't know what to do. He was bleeding so much, and when he looked around for something to wipe it up, he came out empty handed. He panicked and ripped his leather vest off, but when Nikki tried to wipe up the mess the smooth material only smeared more.

His forearm was nearly completely coated in just seconds. And it was staring to hurt.

"Nikki, go to the fucking bathroom, what the fuck dude!" Vince snapped at him. "You're gonna scare the girls off!"

 _Girls_. Nikki forgot; that's why they were there. He looked up at the strippers on the stage, swaying to music he couldn't really hear. One girl pulled her bra off as soon as his eyes met her body, and Nikki felt his stomach roll.

He was out of his chair and racing to the bathroom before his brain could even process it.

Nikki didn't bother locking the door, because his guts emptied themselves before he barely had time to even reach the toilet. He lost only the flem his stomach held because it had no food left inside, and it burned Nikki's throat. He looked over past his stringy bangs dripping with sweat to see his hand coated in fresh blood, leaving a handprint on the wall. _Fuck, that was disgusting- he was disgusting!_

He stood up straight when he didn't gag again for a few minutes, but as he stumbled to the sink his world began to spin once more.

 _Fuck, what the hell was wrong with him!?_ Nikki only got sick this way when he _didn't_ do heroin, not when he _did!_ He hoped Tommy and Vince were distracted with chasing pussy as he turned the sink on and shoved his hand under the cold water. The freezing temperature was enough to focus his mind in one direction briefly, and Nikki quickly tried wiping the red from his arm.

It wasn't coming out. The sink was stained, so was his other hand, and his arm just wouldn't stop bleeding. _Had he missed his vein all together? Fuck, he wished he had more heroin to try again._ She could take the stinging in his arm away- he could just use his hand to try it again, and do it right that time.

 _"Fuck!"_ Nikki hissed as he only succeeded in smearing fresh blood all over his arm, the counter top, and the sink. _He needed more drugs._ _He had to call someone on his list and have them drop some off-_

A noise outside the small window on the opposite wall snapped his head from it's inner torment. The running water from the sink was a steadily fading noise as Nikki honed his senses on the glass.

It was too dark to see outside, but Nikki had _sworn_ he'd heard a goddamn _whistle_ out there...

He stepped closer to it, and suddenly wondered if he had already called a dealer. _Shit, fast fucking service apparently!_ He bolted to the window, which was somehow perfectly at chest heighth, and pried the glass open as much as it would go to stick his upper half outside.

An empty alley bathed in neon light. Nothing to the right. Nothing to the left. Nikki cursed, and called out.

 _"Hello?"_ His voice echoed on the stone walls. No one answered. Nikki furrowed his brows and watched his blood run down the window pane from his arm, trying to make sense of at least one thing going on.

Just before he decided to shut the window and leave, he heard the whistle again. And then a laugh. It was from around the corner on the street, about twenty feet away.

"Hey, is that you?" He called out again, but didn't know who exactly he was talking about. _Did he call someone?_ He couldn't fucking remember. He had to of, and that was why someone was sneaking around outside looking for him. Nikki put his toes to the wall and tried to begin the climb outside, but had no luck. He struggled for a moment to try and get a leg up, until the window pane digging into his empty gut started to hurt too bad. _"Fuck!"_ He was pissed. And then he heard a laugh again.

 _"Hey, fucker."_ A stranger's voice snapped Nikki's attention in the other direction, where he saw someone walking towards him form down the alley. He didn't recognize it. It was too dark to see a face, or clothes, but they appeared to have shorter hair than anyone Nikki knew. So it definitely wasn't Slash. It wasn't his dealer. And it for sure wasn't Mick, because they were about as fucking tall as Tommy.

"Hello?" Nikki tried again as he attempted another climb through the window. _"Fucking cunt, bitch,"_ He hissed a few vulgar words under his breath when his leather boot made no progress on the cement wall. This stranger had his drugs, and Nikki couldn't fit through the opening to get them! He looked down at the ground again, trying to lift himself up.

 _"You got something for me,"_ The stranger's tone made Nikki stop.

He sounded... _weird_.

Nikki turned and watched the man walk towards him. He was about thirty feet away, and Nikki knew his voice shouldn't sound that loud from so far. He glared in their direction, wishing a car would drive by so he could get some light and see who the fuck it was.

"No I don't! Who the fuck are you?" Nikki fought back. He stopped his struggling on the window. A chilled breeze was carried through the wind between them, sending goosebumps down his bare torso.

 _"Yes you do,"_ The stranger cooed in a pleasured tone. It made Nikki's skin crawl.

He remembered then- he _hadn't_ called anyone. He looked down to his bleeding arm for a moment, and when he looked back up. The person was only fifteen feet away.

 _"What the fuck? Who are you!"_ Nikki screamed when they suddenly stopped walking. A shadow of a figure, _just standing there._

 _"I'm your dad, you asshole."_ A sick laugh followed suit from the man.

"Liar, get the fuck away from me!" Nikki went to pull back inside, but suddenly found himself unable to do so. The window had at some point closed on him, and was digging right into his back. _"What the shit,"_ Nikki began to panic as he tried to move his arms back and lift it up, but the weight was too much to move even an inch. He was fucking stuck. The person began stalking towards him again.

 _"You smell so fucking good,"_ They growled like some kind of dog.

 _"Get the fuck away from me asshole!"_ Nikki screamed louder, and began thrashing in the window. His stalker laughed, moving closer. Nikki was panting hard and smearing blood all over his chest, trying to reach his arm over and push the window open. _Why the fuck was it so stuck!?_ The glass whined from his efforts.

The person was almost to him, and now they were _hissing_. Hissing like a fucking _snake_.

 _"Stay away from me!"_ Nikki roared. He was overcome with a sudden sense of danger _, danger, DANGER!_ _He had to get the fuck out of there, because something wasn't fucking right!_ He yanked himself backwards one more time, and screwed his eyes shut at the pain the wood caused digging into his muscles.

Nikki was about to make a fist and just punch the life out of the sick fucker because he could hear those footsteps getting closer, but a sudden animalistic yelp and crack echoed out and a sharp wind blew his hair in his face. He was about to scream again when something grabbed his head and shoved him backwards, and Nikki fell right on his ass in the bathroom before he could even gather the breath to do so.

As fast as everything had happened, it was over. Nikki spat the strands of hair from his mouth and brushed it away as fast as he could, but when he opened eyes again, he was alone.

He stared straight ahead, and deemed the whole experience a wild fever dream caused by being strung out.

There was no window on the wall. He remembered that there never had been before.

***

"Whoa, Nikki, what the fuck? You got blood literally all over!" Tommy was out of his seat the moment he saw his terror twin stumbling towards them. The girls dancing on their table gave them both a few weird looks, which was enough to make Vince turn his head too.

"What the fuck?" He glared at Nikki in confusion. Nikki really wanted to give him a snide remark in response, but his fear induced adrenaline had boiled away whatever brain power he had left.

"Nikki, _you can't have that all over you,"_ Tomy spoke lowley and immediately took his own jacket off, throwing it around Nikki's shoulders. He swiveled his head around like a deer looking for danger, as if the bassist was the most vulnerable thing in the club that night.

"Yeah, no _shit,"_ Nikki breathed. Tommy looked back down at him. "T-Bone, I think I'm sick. I'm going home," Nikki tried to catch his still panting breath as he made for the door. He held a firm grip on the leather draped over his shoulders, silently gratefully for the makeshift shield.

"What, Nikki, no! You can't go walking home like this all alone at night!" Tommy was starting to sound like he was worried about something else entirely. Something he was trying to not tell Nikki. But Nikki was most definitely sober enough now to catch on to that bullshit.

And yeah. He knew Tommy was right.

But he kept walking anyways, and decided to speak just in case the drummer was following him.

"T-Bone, I saw something in a weird, screwed up hallucination, so I just need to go the fuck home and sleep it off, alright?"

"Nikki, wait!" Tommy was indeed stumbling through the crowd after him, but Nikki kept moving too fast for him to grab the bassist. "I'm coming with you!" He ordered suddenly.

Nikki was out the front doors before he turned to his friend and replied.

"Why?"

"Because!" Tommy huffed. He stared at his best friend for a moment. "It's dangerous."

 _"Tommy when is anything we do NOT dangerous!?"_ Nikki was getting a little too pissed off to play things cool any longer. He was feeling withdraws already, irritated that his high didn't work, angry that Tommy was being uncharacteristically protective, and beyond confused at whatever the fuck happened in the bathroom.

He kept telling himself it was a hallucination. _But his back still hurt from the wood._

He was walking away again as Tommy easily kept up at his side.

"What, uh... What did you see?" The drummer asked. He sounded weird again, which made Nikki even more irritable.

_"Nothing."_

"Was it a person, trying to get to you?"

Nikki stopped in his tracks and turned to look up at Tommy. He wanted to punch him in the jaw, and Tommy could clearly sense this. But he stared down at Nikki anyways, and the look in his eyes also made it clear that he knew the answer was yes.

"Do you know what it was? _Was it real?"_ Nikki growled. Tommy wasn't expecting the questions, so he panicked.

"N-No! I mean, I don't know what you saw!" He stutted.

 _"Fuck off Tommy,"_ Nikki hissed. He ripped the jacket off and shoved it against Tommy's chest, then turned tail to run to his car.

"Nikki!" Tommy sounded terrified as he cried after him. Nikki ran faster.

 _He just wanted to get away._ He was aching for something and he didn't know what. He didn't want to play games with Tommy, he didn't want girls around his cock, and he didn't want to be asked any more _goddamn_ questions.

_He wanted his heroin. He wanted to go home. He wanted to stop feeling like he was walking in an endless dream._

Nikki didn't know if Tommy tried to chase him, because he averted his eyes from anything other than the ground and slammed the car door shut behind him. He turned the engine on, and for once something went right and she started up just fine. He tore out into the street and was speeding away before he even caught his breath. Someone honked at him as Nikki cut them off and floored it with a roar of the crackling engine. He drove fast, way too fast, fast enough to kill himself if he hit anything because his seatbelt wasn't even on. He didn't care. _He fucking hoped he would hit something._

_He needed to go home. He wanted his closet, where none of this stupid shit went on._

Nikki started breathing a little more properly again when five minutes passed, and the crowded city began to give way to the swaying roads of California's hills. The rear end of the car almost kissed a tree at one point when he took a turn too quickly, but the jostle of the car barely jostled him. Nikki had his eyes and mind in one direction only, and he did his best to steer the wheel that way.

Only trees to his left, and trees to his right now. _Finally_ , he knew where he was. A street sign passed him, signaling he was just six miles from home. Nikki sniffed and wiped at his sweaty face, but remembered the blood on his hand too late when he felt it's stickiness smear on his cheek. He cursed under his breath and cracked a window to rid the car of the iron smell invading his nose.

His shaking arm reached out to turn the radio down when the guitar solo to _Somebody Save Me_ by Cinderella made his ears start ringing. They felt so hypersensitive all of a sudden, but Nikki blamed it on the blood loss and adrenaline still giving him unusual jitters. The beat of the song still boomed in his speakers despite the low volume, and rattled his ribcage. The squealing guitar hit high, and Nikki tried to use it as a distraction. He didn't remember that shitty song sounding so high pitched before, but he let the thought drift around in his brain. It was better than thinking about what happened at the club.

Trees flew past on either side. The stars hung above. The pavement raced beneath him. And just as Tom Keifer started asking somebody to save him again, Nikki screamed when a person stepped onto the road.

He yanked the steering wheel to the right before he could hit them and get a good look at who it was from their body splashed across his windshield, and hit a wall of rocks at sixty miles per hour.

Nikki was out like the headlights.

***

_Red._

_His bathroom was red. His hands were red. The toilet was bright red pink, because he was laying on the floor looking up at it._

_Fuck, not this shit again._

_Nikki fell back asleep, and now everything was black._

***

That was all a dream.

It had to be.

Nikki opened his eyes and the world was normal. It was dark with the night, but still _normal_. He was laying on his filthy bed, and when he checked the time on the clock by the bed frame it was exactly three in the morning. _3:00AM_ stared back at him in that horrid crimson colored light that kept seeming to find new ways to haunt him. He sat up too fast and wondered if any part of the past ten hours had been real at all. A flow of memory hit him with a headache as a gift, and Nikki whined as he slowly remembered going to the club with Tommy and Vince.

There was a girl he was eyeing, but he wanted to shoot up more. _Yeah, did that._ So he was in the bathroom, and did his routine as per usual. _Yeah, that was real too._

But... then what?

He was sure he passed out. Because while that figure haunted his mind and Nikki was holding the memory back with a shotgun, he _knew_ that bathroom didn't have a window. It never had, because it was always the perfect place to do drugs and eat cock without getting caught. So maybe Nikki had just overdosed, and had a sick dream about ghosts and crashing his car in the woods.

He looked down at his arm. There was no blood.

_There. See? A dream._

Nikki stood upright and when the expected dizzy spell didn't hit, he headed to the closet. He had his spoon and flame in his hand in mere seconds, and the needle in his arm in one more. He pushed the plunge and waited, waited, _waited_.

His high didn't hit. Nikki cried out when nothing happened, sounding like a cat hung up and slaughtered.

 _"Fuck you!"_ He screamed at the only stable love in his life, and began making more. Hands scrambled along the singed carpet to find what they needed, and when they were done they stuck the needle in his foot. It didn't bleed as Nikki pushed too deep and tried it again. He waited on the brink of patience.

 _Nothing happened._ He screamed louder. His head was pounding, his heart was racing, sweat was running in rivers down his forehead. He felt like puking, but that was going to have to wait.

When Nikki tried again for a third time and broke the needle in his thigh, he thought he overdosed.

His blood was on fire in an instant, and he fell the floor. He howled out in agony because one more fucking thing wasn't right, and he had no one to ask for help! _His drug dealer had to of scammed him and given him some fake shit... Maybe they were an undercover cop, and the whole department was waiting to arrest him outside!_

Nikki crawled on all fours towards the bedroom door because he _had_ to get to the kitchen, where he knew he had a gun that could blow all of their brains out! _Maybe his own too, because his current one was boiling in his skull._ His muscles felt like hot jelly under his skin, and for a horrifying moment Nikki thought he could feel bugs crawling around inside him.

He yelped again when he didn't realize through a mess of wet hair that he had made it down the hall and reached the stairs, and went tumbling down them. He smacked his head on the wall and the pain that ignited within him was enough to take his vision away for a moment. His world was black as he rolled down the flight and felt his ribs crack along with his spine with each hit, as Nikki's body went limp with abuse. His face was first to meet the tile floor at the bottom.

Nikki didn't move for a moment. He waited until he could suck in the breath that had been stolen, and blinked up to see his distraught living room. He then saw the legs of a table at his side and weakly grabbed the wood to use it as a crutch. When Nikki was on his knees and his head was hanging limp, he shot a hand up to finish pulling himself up. His hand grabbed the radio on top on accident instead, and his clumsy fingers pressed the power button in their stumbling.

 _I Wanna Be Somebody_ by W.A.S.P. was suddenly blaring in his ears, and it made his entire skeleton rattle. It was as if the volume was on full blast plus ten, and Nikki let out a blood curdling scream. He smacked his hands over his ears as he fell back to the floor and wailed louder than he ever had before in his short and fucked up life. The pain in his skull was as if the entire thing had been cracked down the middle, and his vision started bleeding red again.

That fucker Blackie Lawles was chanting about wanting to be somebody soon, as the red ate up Nikki's vision. He screwed his eyes shut and screamed again.

_The music was so loud he couldn't hear his own cries._

Nikki couldn't breath anymore. He couldn't see anything but red when he cracked his eyes open and peered through tears. _His blood was fire. His bones had all broken_.

The drumming to the song was overtaking his own beating heart, and Nikki collapsed onto his back when it ceased to pump anymore blood.

The guitar solo violently ripped through him with more power than Motley's own concerts.

_He was dying._

Nikki knew he had finally overdone it for good and overdosed, and he was dying to a song he couldn't stand.

He opened his eyes one more time.

His world was blood red.

And as the guitar played on, he froze in fading awareness.

 _"Mick?"_ Nikki whispered with the last bit of air left inside him.

He knew he was already dead, because Mick Mars was on his ceiling. His best friend was hanging upside down above him, just the bottom of his boots upon Nikki's fifteen foot roof. His long hair hung around his head as he stared down at his bandmate with an expression that couldn't be read.

Nikki wanted to scream again, but his time was up.

The last color he ever saw was the golden rings of Mick's eyes looking down at him. _They knew something he didn't._

His last living thought, was that Hell was real.


	3. Alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He awoke in a world that wasn't his own, with a mind that no longer belonged to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, an update! I'm still working on Forever Mine, and a new story I will post relatively soon as well! Thank you to those still keeping up with my work despite the late updates lol <3

He had been dead for a century. Or maybe just five years. Perhaps not at all, but that's sure as hell what it felt like. 

Nikki tried to open his eyes when his brain slowly tapped into consciousness, but the world was so damn _bright_ it only fucking burned. _Had the sun gotten closer while he was dead?_ He shut them again before they could even open half way with a silent cry lost on his chapped lips. He could still feel the heat from the light making them water through his eye lids, so he rolled over. 

Oh. He was on a _bed_. It was different though; it didn't _smell_ like his. _Wait, how the fuck would he know what he smelled like?_

_"I don't know dude, I got a bad feeling about this shit-"_

That was Tommy's voice! Nikki stirred a little, but got distracted in his mission to find Tommy when the sheets around him crackled like fireworks. _What the fuck!? Why were they so damn loud?_ Nikki groaned in displeasure as he flipped over onto his other side, trying to ignore the amplified sounds from doing so. Maybe he'd hit his head super hard at a concert and had a concussion, so his senses were just insanely amplified. It was the only logical explanation his confused mind could come up with, because it made a lot more sense than him being dead.

But that wasn't important. Alive or dead, Nikki had heard Tommy's voice. _And he wanted his friend._

Nikki rubbed his closed eyes to see if he could attempt opening them again and withstand the striking sunlight. He cracked his right one, then the left. His vision was blurry, but when it began to focus against the painful light, Nikki _wailed_.

The world was pale red, almost pink, and the sunlight coming through the window nearly blinded him in a white hot fire. Nikki screamed and covered his eyes- although, not so much from the pain. He was terrified that the red world from his nightmares had in fact infiltrated his living mind. _He was fucking blind!_ Nikki dug the heels of his hands into his burning eyes with another cry, screaming for anyone that may hear. _He needed help! His eyes were bleeding, they had been burned raw, he couldn't fucking see a damn thing!_

Nikki then suddenly remembered last night. His heroin hadn't worked. He'd gotten sick. He'd fallen down the stairs. All he could see was the world through a red filter, W.A.S.P. was playing too fucking loud, and-

Someone burst through the door just as Nikki remembered Mick on his ceiling.

He screamed bloody murder through the panic suddenly flooding his mind, and sat up when a shocked voice hissed something he couldn't hear. There was a thudding noise, repeating itself over and over and it was driving Nikki even more fucking insane.

 _"Nikki! Nikki its okay!"_ The voice then said.

 _It was Tommy!_ Nikki froze, panting hard while still shielding his eyes, and held his breath. _Calm down- he needed to calm down!_ He couldn't breathe, that thudding was taking over his ears, and his lungs were burning as bad as his eyes were! The light burning through his skin suddenly dulled away when Tommy shuffled around the room, and the pain began to finally fade.

 _"T-Tommy?"_ Nikki whimpered. Someone sat on the bed next to him, and Nikki slowly moved his hands away. The world felt darker through his eyelids, so he tried yet again to open them. _He had to see- he had to see who was with him, why this was all happening..._ To a painful surprise, the only color painting his blurry vision was various shades of crimson red. But it didn't hurt as bad anymore, so Nikki looked around as they focused through drying tears.

He wasn't in his own bedroom. He didn't recognize where he was; it was clean, well kept, and had two small windows with the curtains drawn. They were still swaying as if they'd just been pulled closed, and Nikki wondered if Tommy had done it- as if he'd known the pain it was causing him... _Thank fuck for that either way._ They blocked out the searing white sunlight and made his vision somewhat a little more bearable.

Someone shifted beside him as Nikki wondered why he couldn't see color and why it hurt so goddamn bad, and he snapped his head over to see Tommy staring at him from his spot on the bed just a few feet away. That strange thudding still invaded Nikki's ears, as if it was coming from his friend... Tommy looked really fucking worried as he stared at Nikki with unease, but had an undeniable spark of hope in those beautiful brown eyes. Well- they _used_ to be brown. Now Nikki saw them as a deep dark red, which made him want to _cry_.

 _"Tommy?"_ He whimpered again. He stared at his best friend, through the red veil that now coated his world. Tommy looked as he always did; his hair was a lion's mane, he had his torn skinny jeans on, and his Mighty Mouse tank top that Nikki knew should be bright _yellow_ \- not bright _pink_.

"Its me," Tommy nodded nervously. "How, uh... how you feelin'?" He was talking as if Nikki were a wild animal about to be spooked off.

"I..." Nikki had to swallow back a lump in his throat. If it hurt to just look around, it would probably hurt to sob. So he took a moment to gather himself, and answer his best friend. _"I can't fuckin' see,"_ He whined. He looked down, rubbed his eyes, and held them shut. _Willing away that horrid color, praying to a god he didn't believe in for it to just all go back to normal.._.

 _"Yes you can,"_ Tommy whispered. It made Nikki look back up at him. The color of the world still didn't return. "You probably just see in red now, right?"

 _"W-What's wrong with me? And what the fuck is that **noise**?"_ Nikki shifted around. The weird smell floating in the air came back, and the bassist began chasing it with his nose. He sniffed the air, and sighed in building frustration.

"Hey, your senses are just totally fucked up until you get used to them. You'll be okay, just try to relax dude. We can explain it all as soon as you're ready to go out there. _I'm here for ya buddy, it's okay..._ " Tommy spoke so softly- Nikki had never heard him so sweet.

 _"Where am I?"_ Nikki whispered. But he had a feeling, deep in a part of his chest that didn't feel like it belonged to him, that he already knew.

"You know," Tommy smirked at him to confirm his worries. Nikki wanted to fucking slap him because how the _fuck_ would he know, but... He could tell the drummer was right. He just didn't know _how_. "Go on, use that new badass nose of yours!" Tommy chuckled. The sudden sound was loud, and made Nikki's ears _ring_. _"Oops, sorry,"_ Tommy smirked an apology when his friend winced in pain.

 _"What the **fuck** are you talking about, T-Bone?"_ Nikki was growing agitated, and Tommy suddenly had a small look of fear stain his face.

"It's okay! It's okay buddy, just... Go on. _Sniff the air._ _Trust me_ ; _I'm right here for ya, dude."_ Tommy whispered and nodded. He looked at the bassist with a wide, reassuring smile that comforted Nikki in _so_ many strange ways. Tommy had been right about his sight, so... he should be right about this too then... _Right?_ Nikki stared at him a moment, taking in his friend's face as if he hadn't seen it in years. It felt, deep in the pit of his chest, like he _missed_ Tommy. But Tommy was right fucking _there_. It confused him greatly, so Nikki sighed and rubbed his forehead as if he could just wipe those thoughts away.

"Is that your fucking _heartbeat?"_ Nikki suddenly hissed then the vibrating thumps continued.

"Yeah," Tommy chuckled softly. "You'll be hearing shit _way_ better now."

 _"How!?"_ Nikki stared at him with an emotion just short of hot _rage_. But Tommy looked like he really didn't want to answer-his eyes darted around a wall of the room, then fell down to gaze nervously at the bed. His gorgeous smile faltered, and Nikki decided that if Tommy didn't want to talk about, then neither did fucking he.

Nikki finally took in a deep inhale through his nose, and the smell hit him like a _wall_.

 _"Who is it?"_ He whispered and closed his eyes. He could practically hear Tommy grinning next to him, which irked the bassist just a little too much. Nikki sniffed again, and the scent started taking root. He'd smelled that before... it was familiar, it was... someone he _knew._ _But who?_ _Where was it from!?_ He inhaled sharply again, and held his breath to cook it inside his head.

_It was close. Someone **close** to him. It was not a new smell._

The next thing Nikki noticed when he opened his eyes again, was an old Strat leaning against the dresser. He sniffed again, and from across the room caught the scent of who's hands had been holding it.

 _Mick_.

To confirm his guess, Nikki looked at the bed he was sitting on. He bent down and pressed his face against the pillow, and couldn't stop himself from smelling it too. _A black hair that had fallen astray tickled his cheek. A scent filled his nose that belonged to no other. One Nikki had been around so many times before, but had never met until now._

_It was Mick._

"Where is he?" Nikki sat up suddenly. "He... He was _there!"_ He nearly shouted, and Tommy leaned back in concern. "He saw me! _He fucking **did this!"**_ Nikki roared.

"Nikki, just relax!"

 _"No, I need to see him!"_ Nikki was headed for the door in an instant and he barely heard Tommy scramble to keep up. 

_"Nikki it's okay, he didn't do this to you!"_

_"Yes he did! I fucking saw him!"_ Nikki threw the door open to be met with a hallway, and raced towards the open living room at the end. He had never been to Mick's apartment before, but could _smell_ the fucker in there. He could see the sun filling the room bright, but couldn't give a shit as he ran straight ahead. _Mick. He had to see **Mick**. He had to know what that motherfucker had done to him!_ Tommy's foot steps faded behind him as Nikki finally stepped through the doorway, instantly covering his eyes when the blinding sun met his face.

 _"Mick, you fucker!"_ He shouted past his wrists. The light coming in began to burn not only his eyes, but his _skin_. "Fuck!" He cried out in fury, falling to his knees but refusing to crawl back into the hall. Mick had done something. Mick did this. _Its was Mick's fault he couldn't see right, could hear too much, and felt like goddamn **fire**._

Nikki heard the curtains close past the pain screaming in his body, and when darkness fell upon him he pulled his hands away. His eyes were watering profusely as the pain slowly died away, and tears ran down his cheeks when Nikki cracked his eyelids open. When the wetness began to dry and clear his vision, he looked up and saw a pair of legs standing in front of his crouched form. They wore black jeans and boots that he _knew_ belonged to Mick. Nikki's eyes trailed up slowly, following them, and finally saw Mick staring down at him.

He looked _normal_. Calm. Nothing unusual. But... Nikki had _sworn_ his eyes had been _gold_. They were the only color he could fucking _see_ last night...

" _Mick,"_ He tried to speak, but it came out hoarse. _"What did you do?"_ He tried to snarl too, but that failed him as well. He simply winced.

"I didn't do anything to you," Mick said quietly. He held out his hand.

Nikki stared at it for a moment. He had Mick's fingers recognized long ago; all the years of playing guitar with him, years of _trusting_ him. He knew the back of Mick's hand like the back of his own. He'd held it before, grabbed it, pushed it away, watched it work wonders on every instrument it ever touched. Nikki wondered, with yet another pain in his chest, if he could trust it anymore.

 _"It's okay,"_ Mick whispered. And when Nikki looked up into his normal eyes again, he believed it. He took Mick's hand, and it was cool to the touch. _"I'm so sorry, Nikki. I tried to be there for you."_ Mick breathed softly. A look of sadness filled his eyes as he stared up at the bassist. Nikki wanted to ask why he felt so cold, and why he couldn't feel his own heart when it should be racing, but was terrified of the answer. He gazed into that once blue stare, missing the icy color that used to fill it, and began to feel a heavy weight of dreadful longing fill his chest. 

"What happened?" He begged softly. He could still feel tears rolling down his cheeks, but wondered if they were from the pain or the sadness inside him anymore.

When Mick raised his hand, Nikki flinched. Men didn't touch his face unless they wanted to _hurt_ him, and while Nikki hadn't expected Mick to ever strike him before, he braced for it anyway. But it only cupped his wet cheek, and stayed there. The shock from it helped to clear Nikki's racing mind, and while he could feel Mick's fingers grow wet from the tears, he couldn't find the strength to move away. It was an unusually gentle gesture, so out of place in their current situation as Nikki stared at him through the red veil staining his world. And an even _more_ unusually gentle gesture in his fucked up life, where _no_ man had ever cared about him before... As Nikki opened his mouth to ask Mick _why_ , that confusing pain and sense of missing left him. Nikki stood with a wave of calmness washing over him, and the relief it brought was so great his eyes fluttered closed. He took in a sigh because it felt like he should in that moment, but it didn't feel very right.

"I'll tell you what happened, Nikki. But you have to stay _calm_. It will only hurt more if you panic." Mick spoke carefully. Nikki opened his eyes again, heavy with tiredness, and swallowed before nodding slowly.

_He trusted Mick. His wisest friend, who would always know more than he ever will._

Mick moved away, and Nikki immediately missed the cool hand of his guitarist. He followed Mick closely, until they were each sat on the couch at opposite ends. Mick turned stiffly to face him and Nikki did the same, curling into a tight ball as if he could hide from the red world around him. Before either of them could speak, Tommy walked into the room to join them, treading silently and carefully. Nikki watched him stalk closer and expected his friend to sit in the couch between them, because that was what Tommy always did, but the drummer instead stood behind Mick, leaning carefully on the couch. The way he was looking at Nikki- like he was _broken_ , and ready to run at any sudden movement- made Nikki feel even more _wrong_...

 _"Sorry, Mick,"_ Tommy mumbled shamefully, looking down at Mick's head with an apologetic expression.

"Relax, drummer," Mick cooed back without looking away from Nikki. Nikki felt a primal pang of jealously stab his heart at the fact that Tommy and Mick knew about something he didn't... _Why was Tommy so scared of him?_ The three remained still and quiet for another moment, until Mick spoke again. _"Nikki,"_ He whispered. Nikki stared at him. Tommy stared at Nikki, fearful of _something_.

"What?" Nikki winced.

"I'd try to put this lightly for you, but it won't do any good... _You're_ _dead, Nikki._ " 

That's not what Nikki Sixx was expecting Mick Mars to say. It had to be a fucking _joke_ ; but the expression on his friends face... it read only seriousness. More seriousness than Nikki had ever seen on the older man before. He looked up at Tommy, who's gaze would surely tell the truth, but his best friend was just staring down at him with sadness in those big brown eyes. He bit his thick bottom lip, and looked away at the floor.

_No... No way._

"W-What?" Nikki swallowed back the bile rising in his throat.

"You're _dead_ , Nikki. And it's _okay_. This isn't Hell. This isn't Heaven, or any of that bullshit. You're on Earth where you were before, but your body is something else."

 _"Mick,"_ Nikki whined out for any sort of comfort against the chaos storming his mind, and felt tears prick at his eyes for the third goddamn time. He thought about what Mick was telling him- his good friend Mick Mars, who had never wronged him before in their lives, who could never hurt a living creature even if he tried- and felt sick at the realization that it fucking made _sense_.

He couldn't see the world outside of a red hue. He could smell whatever he so much as looked at. He could heart Tommy's heartbeat, and it was slow with truth. And Nikki suddenly realized something else; _he hadn't even thought about heroin since he'd woken up._

 _"What happened to me?"_ Nikki breathed out.

Mick stared at him a while, tilted his head slightly with a pained expression, and held out his hand. Nikki took it quickly, holding it tightly with both his own. He _craved_ Mick's contact, and he didn't know why. Nikki scooted forward, allowing Mick to bring him close to rest his head in the older man's lap. The guitarist let Nikki hold his hand, and used the other to pet the wild mane of dark hair belonging to the bassist. Nikki sighed deeply again at the calming _relief_ he felt at his friend's touch, even though it still burned inside to do so.

" _You know what a vampire is, right?"_ Mick finally whispered after a few soothing strokes along Nikki's head. Nikki wanted to sit up and punch him for making jokes, but the anger in his chest was just a spark before it immediately burned out. He was left to hold his unneeded breath, and grip Mick's cool hand even tighter.

 _"Yes,"_ He barely spoke. Tears came back to wet his reddened eyes.

 _"They aren't just made up monsters from TV, Nik."_ Mick continued softly. He began lightly scratching behind Nikki's ear when he sensed more annoyance rise up in the bassist. But it too drained away as fast as it had swelled.

 _"Am I fucking **vampire** , Mick?"_ Nikki growled out. It sounded deeper than usual- it bordered on the line of something animalistic. It _scared_ Nikki, so he shut his mouth.

 _"Yes, you **are**."_ Mick suddenly sounded so dangerously stern, it made Nikki every bit of mad that he could be. _So mad, SO MAD- he was pissed! Nikki was fucking FURIOUS!_

He shot up out of Mick's lap, crouched on his knees next to him to glare down at the older man, and decided he'd had _enough_ of whatever prank his friends were trying to pull. His head was pounding, his guts were rolling, and his blood was fucking _boiling!_ Nikki just wanted to be back to normal already, and he was going to make his old man Mick Mars fucking _do it._

 _"Shut up."_ His voice came out in a wet snarl, and Tommy hunched his shoulders with a fearful glare. His heart-rate picked up so fast, it sounded like a drum in Nikki's ears. But he didn't care about Tommy- he was staring at _Mick_ , and felt his teeth _ache_. Mick was looking up at him, anger spiking in that once blue gaze, and pulled his lip up in a half-snarled warning.

 _"Relax, Nikki,"_ He whispered. It sounded weird, like a groan, but Nikki was only more ticked off at the sound.

 _"Fuck you!"_ He shouted loud. Tommy jumped with his own heated stare, but Mick stayed still. "Stop acting like I'm a fucking _vampire_ , Mick! This isn't a fucking _joke!"_ He roared, and was standing up off the couch in a second. Mick stood up slowly after him, clenching two fists.

"I said calm _down,"_ He growled deep. It almost didn't even sound like him.

Nikki was shaking. He was trembling with rage. His vision grew blood red, honing in on Mick's face. Tommy's heartbeat was loud in his head and sounded like a calling siren, but Nikki couldn't look away from the guitarist. His fingernails started burning, and his jaw suddenly cracked. It made him so _angry_ , his fury was burning every fiber of bone inside him.

Nikki was _done_. Done with the past day, the entire week, done with his heroin always failing, done with Mick acting so stupid, and done with his fucked up vision and the pains across his body making him feel like a goddamn _corpse_.

_Vampire. Mick called him a fucking **vampire**._

_"FUCK YOU!"_ Nikki wailed as loud as his burning lungs would allow, and raised a hand. Instead of trying to punch Mick as he usually would have, his fingers were spread wide and ready to... to _claw_ him. Before Nikki could stop and wonder why the fuck that was, he brought his hand down faster than he'd ever moved before.

He wanted to claw Mick's throat- _maim, rip, tear it right out_ \- that was what he _tried_ to do. But Mick grabbed his wrist so fast, Nikki barely made it halfway. And his grip was so strong- Nikki fought against it, and immediately felt his wrist crack when Mick tightened the hold.

 _"FUCK!"_ Nikki roared, and he sounded like a tiger who'd been taken away his meat. In the momentary shock of his own snarled voice, Mick yanked hard on his arm and threw him to the floor. Nikki landed on the wood with an echoing smack, and hit his skull _hard_. But the pain barely registered- he was staring up at Mick with fury and fear mixing into one raging emotion, ready to punch or slash again. But as Nikki struggled to sit up with a ringing in his ears, he looked into Mick's eyes.

_They were gold._

Nikki froze, mouth burning and gaping with drool. His hands trembled, his chest wavered, and his body quivered. Fear. Shock. Knowing. So many emotions wreaking havoc deep down inside Nikki's burning chest.

Mick's eyes were _gold_ , and he had _fangs_. Two shiny pairs of canines extended down to his lips, pointed so sharp the tips were nearly invisible. He was stalking closer to Nikki, stepping on either side of his legs to look down at the bassist past strands of dark hair.

"You..." Nikki breathed, and it _hurt_. "You were there... You _saw me."_

 _"I was. I did."_ Mick's voice was a hushed growl. He stood with Nikki's feet between his boots. Nikki leaned back on one hand, suddenly a feral kind of terrified at Mick and the sinister expression on the guitarist.

 _"What did you do?"_ He whispered.

"Nothing. Look at you, Nikki. ** _Embrace it."_** Mick hissed like a snake with a guttural snarl.

Nikki held his golden gaze for a moment, and then through the burning anger in his body, he looked down.

He saw his hands. They had... _claws_. Black pointed nails stretching nearly two inches past his fingers. His veins were darkened as if his blood ran black, and it felt like they were moving under his skin. His hands trembled at he sight, the feeling, the sensation of energy that wasn't entirely his own buzzing within him. Deep in his core, where a fire burned hotter than hell, there was a voice speaking through it.

 _Eat_.

Nikki was **_hungry_**.

 _EAT_.

There was a crackling noise in the back of his spinning head, as if his brain was on fire. His blood was molten lava coursing through every fiber of his being, and he was fucking _STARVING_. Nikki swallowed down the bile rising in his throat, and felt two fangs stab his own bottom lip.

_He had to eat._

Nikki shot up from between Mick's legs, and lost his mind as he tackled the older man to the floor.

 _Mick's neck._ He wanted Mick's fucking _NECK!_ He opened his mouth to take it, to bite it and drink up whatever was inside his unholy body. But there was Mick's hand again, and it gripped his throat enough to choke before he could reach the older man's jugular. Nikki hissed until his windpipe closed off between those pale fingers, with his mouth opened wide. He was drooling, pushing so hard against Mick's grasp, because goddamn it he _NEEDED_ his fangs buried in that soft flesh! He trashed to the left, thrashed to the right, kicked his legs, and tried to yank his head free. Mick tightened his grasp even more until the vertebrae in Nikki's neck cracked, but no pain met his spine so Nikki kept fighting. Mick used his free hand to snatch Nikki's wrist in the air yet again when the younger man raised his claws to go in for Mick's face. 

Nikki couldn't budge. He was stuck in Mick's immortality strong hold, drooling like a dog all over the man's throat. His other hand gripped Mick's wrist near his neck, trying to break it away by clawing him there, but unable to match the other's strength. He blinked hard once, tried to snarl, then met Mick's eyes. 

_Mick_...

_His friend._

_Mick Mars..._

Nikki didn't want to kill Mick Mars... But the hunger inside him- _it hurt so fucking bad._

_'No, Mick... Please, don't let me kill you!'_

Mick wore nothing but a placid expression, gazing up at Nikki with not an ounce of fear. His golden eyes stared at his bassist with a harsh, knowing look brewing deep inside those yellow glimmers. Something inside Nikki's head whispered through the blinding red hot rage ignited within him; it told him, ' _it's okay.'_

_'You're going to be okay, Nikki.'_

Nikki looked down at Mick's face. A face he'd known for so many years, one that felt like home even though he'd never admit it out loud. Mick Mars was his band, his friend, his _family_...

 _What was wrong with them? Why did this have to happen?_ The pain sizzled in his blood, crying out for relief that felt as if it would only come from biting Mick's throat; _he didn't want to kill Mick!_

Nikki cried in silent sobs, dropping tears of fear and confusion down onto Mick's cheek. He was disgusted with himself, for losing control to powers beyond his world, as his hand made a fist until those black claws broke the skin of his own palm. His body shook with hunger, inhuman energy, rage, and _terror_ at what he was about to do. But Mick held him still- his strength never faltering. And as Nikki fought to finally lower his hands, slipping them slowly free from Mick's own to grip the leather of the older man's jacket, Mick brought his face closer.

 _No, **no!** He couldn't do that, Nikki couldn't control himself!_ His vision bled a darker red than ever as that pale skin got closer, until his older friend's face began to blur. _Was it from the tears? Or were his eyes truly bleeding crimson rivers?_ It felt like the latter, but he hoped desperately for the former. Nikki made a strangled noise deep in his chest, losing the sound in his throat where no air could escape.

_Mick smelled so good, looked even **better** \- he had to taste him, **bite** him, just a little bit to see what was under that skin..._

Mick Mars surprised him when he guided Nikki's face closer, bringing the basisst to his throat. Nikki's mouth opened even wider, and the younger man could feel the fangs in his mouth extend another inch. It _hurt_ , and it _burned_ , but the minute they slowly pierced that smooth skin, Nikki's world fell into absolute _bliss_.

Mick bled into his mouth, and Nikki latched on for dear fucking life. The crack of Mick's skin breaking at the pressure of his animalistic canines barely registered, as Nikki sucked _hard_. He drank whatever liquid spilled from the wounds, and quickly realized as he bit down harder that his bottom teeth had sharpened themselves as well. He punched them in, and Mick hissed by his ear at the pain it clearly caused. But his hand eventually left Nikki's throat, to allow him to _drink_.

Nikki drank, and drank, and _drank_ , guzzling down the hot blood spilling into his begging mouth. He felt the warm streams spill between his lips, running down his chin to get lost in Mick's hair. The iron taste, the copper smell- it was a high like no heroin ever before. A lifeline in that deep red ocean he was drowning in.

 _Mick. Poor Mick Mars, his best friend that he had killed._ He wanted more than anything to say sorry, he was _so fucking sorry!_ Nikki felt tears escape his eyes yet again, but couldn't even begin to stop his bloodlust as he continued draining what his older bandmate had left. The feral pain in his body, that burning in his veins- it all began to fade away. The blood he drank was ice to the fire, steaming him cool as Nikki shuddered at the taste.

He drank until his jaw began to ache, and his full stomach told him he was _done_. The fangs buried in Mick's flesh felt like they were pulling back in, making it easy for Nikki to release the man's neck with a choked gasp around the mess in his mouth. He shook with draining adrenaline, then closed his eyes to hide the red world. To hide Mick's face, that had probably fallen limp.

 _Oh God, what had he done!?_ He cried out, tried to say how sorry he was, curling in against the unholy warmth inside him. He couldn't look at Mick- and oh, _fuck, what would Tommy think? Poor young Tommy, who was probably cowering in the corner!?_

A hand met his hair, petting it down slowly. Nikki cried softly again, suddenly void of all energy as he collapsed to the floor next to Mick's body.

He tried to open his eyes again, to see Mick one last time, but the tears blured his red world just a little too much before they closed with exhaustion. He was tired. _So tired._

Nikki just wanted to sleep, sleep forever and never wake up to face his new world. To face what he'd done. _Maybe it was a dream._ He wanted to wake up, find Mick, tell him as soon as possible how much he truly cared about him. Tell it to Vince, and to Tommy as well. Say sorry for neglecting them so much, and for losing his ways to the needle of heroin. _He would give his goddamn life for just one more day with all of them..._

Nikki's last thought was a question in his fading mind, wondering who's hand was still petting his hair as he slipped away.


	4. Cold Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More truth bleeds through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for such a delay in updates! I'm dealing with too many things at once but I'm pushing fics through at much as I can. As an apology please enjoy an edit I made of my vampire Mick <3

***

_Falling..._

He was dreaming of falling from the stars, down and down across the wide night sky. He was above the clouds, under the void of space, and his world was _finally_ in color again. Black above, blue all beneath. The wind cradling his spinning body was a harshly comforting blanket, with it's icy touch keeping him steady as he flew away with the atmosphere. He could see the earth below, lit up like fireflies in the night as the sun set over her horizon. 

The wind beckoned him to follow; _come further,_ it said. _Reach out, feel it all around you._

_Feel what, though?_

It's whisper was smooth, sharp, and familiar all at the same time. It was like Nikki had known that voice all his life, and yet couldn't remember who exactly it _was_. It ordered him softly, only speaking inside his head.

_Don't be afraid, Nikki._

He reached his arm out. He spun with the earth as the sun and moon traded places for the night; and he felt _safe_. The clouds touched his fingers, promising to catch him before it would ever be too late.

He was above it all, falling closer as gravity brought him back. But he wasn't afraid- _he was free._

***

Nikki bolted awake with a gasp that set fire in his lungs, blinking to see a red world that was beginning to become painfully familiar. It felt as if his body was still falling, or prhaps flying, through the night sky. Not... laying on a hardwood floor, under a roof, behind windows and walls that hid the moon from his view. He wondered where he was, why his dream felt so damn _real_ , how long he had been out for the sun to have set long ago- and then he _remembered_.

Nikki sat up, choosing not to breathe because holding his breath somehow hurt a lot fucking less. He was on the floor, and whipped around to see Mick's apartment surrounding him. He was buzzing with energy, sniffing the air in quick bursts to gather the scent of his guitairst, and Tommy's lingering cologne.

_But where were they?_

Before Nikki could find out the answer, he remembered something else...

_A vampire_. Mick had called him a vampire, and... and then he... and then Nikki- he _killed_ him. He bit into Mick's soft neck, and sucked his blood like a fucking _monster_... It tasted so good, so warm, the iron on his tongue, and he wanted _more_.

_Oh, fuck. What had he done!?_

He was on his feet in a second, with more precision than ever as he looked at the floor.

There was no blood. No dead Mick. No cowering Tommy...

Nikki then turned his attention to the window. He could smell them there... it was fading, as if they had left hours ago, but he _knew_ they had been there. Maybe Tommy had dragged Mick out the window in fear, stumbling to the street to call for help because it was faster than taking the stairs. _But how could Nikki still smell them? Was he truly a fucking vampire, like some shitty movie monster?_

Nikki rubbed his eyes, and when the red stain remained, he began believing it just might be true. He knew, deep down, that Mick was right because Mick Mars was right about everything, but there was still a small drop of hope in his heart that last night had just been a nightmare.

_Fuck, if he woke up just one more time, he swore to never do heroin again._

Nikki stepped closer to the window, and raised the blinds. The night and the moon painted over L.A. as the stars remained hidden beyond so many lights. And as Nikki gazed out across the endless buildings, he knew that Mick's words were true.

He could still taste that blood. He craved more of it. And Mick hadn't been dragged away out the window by Tommy- because Mick's apartment was on the fifth floor.

Nikki bent down, so that his face was close to the window pane. He sniffed, and caught the scent of both his friends. Old, but no doubt there.

_Had it been left on purpose? Why would both of them have touched the window on a fifth story apartment? Had they just opened it to get the shitty stench of blood out?_

Nikki decided that his nose could only take his questions so far, and quickly opened the window. He stuck his top half out into the cold air to turn and look up towards the roof, where not a soul should be found. He was hit with a rather nasty memory of the very night his living nightmare bagn; when he was leaning out of a window that wasn't there, dangling in the night for that monster to come and grab. He had felt so helpless then, but now... He felt a lot like the monster this time. He made a mental note to ask Mick- _if he ever saw his friend again_ \- who the hell that was that night. Mick's aura, presence, _whatever_ the fuck it was called, felt nothing like that _thing's_ , as that stranger stalked upon him...

Nikki could see nothing but the ledge of the roof that met the night sky. That should have been obvious; what was he expecting to see? Mick on the wall, hanging there as he had been in his house that night? Nikki growled quietly, sounding all too animalisitc, and wanted to go back inside. But something was _calling_ him again; a voice inside his head, just like the wind from his dream... Nikki tried to hear, tried to smell, or maybe even _feel_ , whatever was trying to talk to him because he could just _sense_ that it was coming from the roof, beyond his view. He growled again at the annoying draw and insticit to move forward in an impossible direction, and prepared to just jump from the window and end his fucking misery all together.

_That would be pretty nice..._ All he had to do was lean a little further out, let his feet slip away from the floor, and he could finally be fucking free... No more pain, no more living nightmare, no more mystery, confusion, talk of vampires, or drug addiction. He could end it right then, and be found on the sidewalk in a million pieces-

_'Don't even fucking think about it.'_

_What!?_ Nikki blinked, turning his lingering gaze from the ground far below back to the roof. He opened his mouth to ask who the fuck had said that, because the voice in his head was most _certainly_ not his own. But he knew who it was; that familiar high tone, that always knew how to snap at his heels.

_"Mick?"_ He whimpered into the red night.

_'Come on,'_ Mick's sweet voice came through again, and Nikki decided that he was most certainly talking to Mick's ghost. He thought back to all the blood that had filled his mouth; it was so rich, so good, so fucking addicting, so much better than any hit of heroin. _It was the worst thing he had ever done._

Nikki quickly made up his mind in the next minute that if he was forced to live in the body of a monster, haunted by his old friend's murdered spirit, then maybe he should try to at least do as he was told. He grabbed the top of the window pane, and brought his legs up to crouch on the ledge. His arms shook at the sudden realization that his life currently depended solely on their strength, as he stole a glance down to the sidewalk.

_One slip... One accidental slip of his fingers, and he would be history._

_'I said knock it the fuck off, Nikki. Come on, just walk over.'_ Fuck, even Mick's ghost was a little nagging grouch... Nikki's head turned back to the sky, where lazy clouds drifted across the moon far beyond his destination. He wished L.A. wasn't so bright, so he could see the stars just one last time that night. He knew there was no way he would make it up there; with no ledges to climb, only a long brick wall sat between him and the top.

Nikki swallowed the drool pooling under his tongue as he quickly decided he had nothing to lose other than his terribly shitty life, and disobeyed any ounce of human instict left inside as he jumped to the sky.

He was aiming for the window a few feet above Mick's, but wasn't expecting to actually make it there. His red eyes were closed tight, the small breeze teasing his hair, as his hands took a desperate grasp onto the stone ledge only inches wide. His toes pressed hard against the wall, staying put on the cold surface with ease. It felt so... _effortless_ ; Nikki opened his eyes immediately after, wondering if he had just fallen and died again. But there he was; hanging onto the window with no strain at all on his fingers, staring down at Mick's open window. The sidewalk below sat even further away, down in the darkness. The grit of the brick window pane scratched at his fingers, and Nikki could hear the fine rocks scraping beneath his bare feet as they slid just an inch.

"Holy shit!" Nikki gasped. His lungs painfully reminded him that breathing was no longer a very fun hobby, when he breathed in shock. " _Fuck_ ," He swallowed again, looking back up.

_'Hurry up now,'_ Mick spoke calmly in his brain again. Nikki grinned, sorrowfully missing his friend's sweet voice, and tried to avoid the tears in his stained gaze at the thought that he would never hear it out loud again.

_Vampire_... Mick called him a vampire. And there he was; hanging outside on the building, held up by an unseen force, seeing the night city in a blood red wave.

When Nikki planted his feet flat on the wall, he knew he shouldn't let go. He would fall; his fingers may be supporting his entire weight on their own with no pain at all, but he still had to obey _gravity_ , right!?

Or... maybe he didn't?

Nikki Sixx found himself hanging on the sill of a window, seventy feet in the air, at an unknown hour of the night, wondering if gravity would still wreak it's unforgiving rule on him anymore. _Never fall from too high;_ such a basic instict he was suddenly battling hard with tooth and nail. But Mick's ghost had told him to do it... And maybe it was just his guitarist luring Nikki to his death, but so what? Nikki sure as hell thought that seeing Mick when he died, and apologizing to him for the rest of eternity as their souls floated aimlessly through unwanted streets, was a lot better than the reality he currently faced.

He trusted Mick. _He missed Mick._ He wanted answers, and if he had to die to get them- then so fucking be it.

Nikki did not breathe when he released his grip on the window sill. And he still did not breathe when he didn't fall. He _stood_. He was standing on the wall, standing straight with his feet planted on the brick right where he put them.

"Fuck!" Nikki opened his eyes, staring down- or rather, across- at his bare feet where they sat on the building. He strained his neck to look up then, gazing out at the city and it's glorious upside down red view.

He was standing on a _wall_. _Standing_ like a demon, disobeying the earth, as his hair and clothes hung down reaching for the ground. Just like Mick had done, that fateful night when he loomed above Nikki's withering body on his ceiling.

_Vampire_. The word rang over and over in Nikki's racing mind. He felt no blood rush to his head, no drop of his stomach in fear as he stood horizontally on the wall. He looked down to his bare feet again, and took one step forward. He walked onto the stranger's glass window effortlessly, feeling the cool touch on the bottom of his feet. A wild grin cracked in his lips, and Nikki stepped forward again. Again he walked, slowly making his way up towards the roof as if the world had turned on its side for him.

_Vampire_. He was a fucking _vampire!_ Walking as if gravity no longer existed! A pained laugh escaped his throat, and Nikki felt joy flood his mind for the first time in ages. He looked up at the sky, out to the city, and down to the ground as he walked across four more windows. The breeze picked up, whisping his hair over his face, but it did nothing to hinder his inhuman balance. It made Nikki laugh again, a short and quiet chuckle of disbelief, as he held out an arm to feel the wind on his fingertips. _He was immortal; belonging to the night as the sky held him up beyond all others._

All too soon, he was stopped at the roof's edge. One more moment to enjoy his new power, twisting to stare out at the city with a right side up view, before Nikki finally stepped up onto the ledge. He remembered not to breathe a sigh of relief when he was standing normally again, instead staring down at the sidewalk so far below. If anyone had been walking by that minute, they would have thought he was a poor lost soul ready to jump and end his pathetic life. And maybe Nikki was... _Or maybe, he had already done that._

"Took your fat ass long enough."

Nikki whipped around, his smile fading, and dropped his jaw when he saw Mick standing upon the building's chimney shoot about twelve feet away.

_"Mick!?"_ Nikki gaped up at his friend. Mick stood lazily upon the chimney, less hunched over than usual, his dark hair shrouding his face when it blew in the wind, as he grinned down at Nikki. "Y-You're alive!?" Nikki jumped down from the ledge onto the flat roof, feeling tears swell in his eyes.

"Stop crying, pussy." Mick chuckled. "And no, I'm not alive. I'm _dead_ , remember? _Just like you."_

"You're..." Nikki fell silent as the sudden memory of the day hit him hard.

_Holy shit. Mick... He was... That was why-_

_"Say it,"_ Mick hissed, but Nikki heard him loud and clear.

_"You're a vampire?"_ He whispered.

Mick grinned wider, once again exposing two long fangs that teased his bottom lip. Nikki felt his cold dead heart pump one last time in shocking realization and memory of Mick's monstrous form from only hours ago. _"Holy FUCK!"_ He yelled, spinning around once and holding his poor screaming head in his hands. "What the _fuck!?"_

"Relax, you big baby," Mick kept grinning at him. It was sinister, so evil with inhuman fangs so long. But Nikki somehow knew with a feral instinct that it's power meant no harm to him. Nikki felt his cold skin sweat, as he released the grip on his hair and stared up at his old friend. And as Mick took a step forward, standing on the chimney by only his boot-clad heels, Nikki felt that fear leave his chest.

He felt that draw again- that pull- and it was to _Mick_.

"You spoke in my fuckin' mind?" He cleared his throat. Mick only nodded, closing his fang filled mouth. "How!?" Nikki demanded an answer.

"I'm dead. Ghosts can talk without speaking, you know."

Nikki wanted to get mad at such a bullshit answer, but deep down knew it was painfully true. He stood dumbfounded and lost for a moment, taking in Mick's leather dressed form as his friend stared down with those intense, knowing eyes.

And just when he decided he no longer had to fear his guitarist, or the fate in front of him- his stomach growled.

Mick giggled at him; it was a sweet sound Nikki hadn't realized he missed so much, but it brought attention to that touchy subject he was hoping to avoid.

Nikki was _hungry_.

_He was fucking **starving**._

"You need to eat," Mick stated calmly.

"I'm not doing that again!" Nikki shook his head, preparing to fight an eternity of starvation if it meant not sucking Mick's blood again.

"Dont worry, you don't have to. This is where the _fun_ starts." Mick jumped down from the chimney then. Nikki instinctively took a step forward to try and catch him because Mick had a pretty shitty back and sticking a ten foot drop would probably break it even more, but the older man simply landed flawlessly on his feet.

"W-What? No, I want answers first." Nikki swalllowed and gave Mick his infamous evil stare. Mick stalked towards him, grinning with friendship as he walked up to his bassist. When he stopped only inches from Nikki's face, the younger man couldn't help but stare into those once blue eyes. Even through the red haze, they held such a calming, _safe_ power within them.

"Can you control my fuckin' emotions or something, old man?" Nikki furrowed his brows. He expected Mick to ruffle his hair for such a silly question- not nod slowly with a wink. _"No way..."_

_"Yes_ way. Don't worry dude; all your little questions will soon be answered. _Come."_ He turned around, and with no warning was running to the opposite end of the roof.

"Hey!" Nikki yelled and raced after him, feeling his feet carry him effortlessly across the flat roof until he skidded to a halt at the ledge, where Mick jumped up onto it. He looked down at Nikki, then nodded his head to beckon him to follow. Nikki jumped up onto the edge with his old man, looking out across the endldss hills of west Hollywood.

_"Why can I walk on walls?"_ He whispered as he took in the red view.

"You're a vampire."

_"No shit asshole,"_ Nikki chuckled, although it was filled with panic. Mick giggled with him, and the sugar sweet sound made Nikki's dead heart flutter. _"Fuck,_ I can't believe my guitarist made me a goddamn _vampire_." He shook his head with disbelief, forcing down his fear.

"Nah, I didn't do that. It was already in you. _All in your veins._ I was just waiting for it to come out. That's why I found you that day in the liquor store, you know... I knew what you would be, but you weren't ready then. So I found you again, waited with you, and now here we are. Kinda funny, ain't it?"

_"No._ Sly prick, I fucking hate you sometimes," Nikki looked over down to his friend. Mick gazed back up at him, with a knowing, happy look in his eyes. His dark bangs brushed across his forehead in the cold breeze. "How the fuck did you know what I was then? We'd never met before that..."

"Just a vampire thing. Comes with old age." Mick winked again. It made something- it couldn't be his heart, because it was clearly dead- twist all around in Nikki's blood stained guts.

_"Why did I bite you today?"_ Nikki frowned slightly at his forced question.

"I was there for your turn. It's natural for a new vampire to get their first drink from their alpha. It's what makes this Hell all final, so you don't die a slow, painful, starving, pathetic death. _Again_." Mick laughed.

_"Alpha?_ No fucking _way_ you're an _alpha_ , Mars, shut the fuck up!" Nikki shook his head with a disbelieving laugh at Mick's words, unable to look away from his friend's gaze. Mick fell silent, smirking up at him as they gazed into each other's eyes.

"It's true. I'll keep you safe. Teach you everything in due time. _Don't you worry your pretty little head,"_ Mick whispered. Nikki couldn't help but believe him, despite how much he tried not to. That silent voice of instict in his head was back, telling him that Mick was right. Mick was always right, whether Nikki wanted to believe him or not.

"Well..." Nikki wished he could still breathe, because a sigh would be very well placed right about then. "Gonna teach me how to get them fucking fangs out at least?" He grinned at Mick. The guitarst chuckled again, and nodded.

"Eager as ever, I see. Come on. Let's get you some fucking dinner."

"Blood, I'm assuming?" 

"You've assumed right," Mick patted his shoulder happily, but before Nikki could protest with his usual sarcasm he was pushed right off the roof.

The stone beneath his feet slipped away until only air was beneath them. Nikki opened his mouth to scream, but no sound left his lungs as gravity finally decided to work and yanked him back to the earth below. All he had time to think was that he didn't spin like in his dream; he fell flat, arms and legs reaching out for something, anything to catch himself on. The sidewalk grew closer, the wind louder in his ear, and Nikki shut his eyes to brace for his gorey, ending impact. _Fucking Mick! Mick had finally decided to take revenge and killed him right fucking back! That bastard- if only Nikki had time to fucking beat his ass!_

But the sidewalk never met his falling body. And Nikki didn't splatter all over the concrete, as he was expecting to. The wind in his face became a dull breeze, tickling his hair across his cheeks. After a moment in darkness wondering if he had died and just didn't feel it, Nikki cracked open his eyes.

_Fuck!_ He was fucking _floating!_ The sidewalk and street below sat still a mere ten feet away- close enough that he could see all the different sized pebbles littering the chiped concrete edges. His arms and legs stuck out straight and awkwardly in the air, instictivly looking for something to grab onto.

_"Mick!"_ Nikki screamed, too scared to look up behind him. He couldn't help but pant in fear, ignoring the dull burn in his lungs from doing so. _"What the fuck!"_ He wailed again, closing his eyes to pray such a nightmare away. Just a few seconds, a few painful breaths, and he would open his eyes and be lying in bed. _It was a dream, or he was dead, please, **please** , anything but literally floating in the sky like a goddamn ghost..._

"Open them fresh eyes of yours, dude!"

_Mick. That sneaky short little motherfucker._

Nikki found he couldn't deny his old man even in such a state of unnatural limbo, and opened his eyes yet again. There he remained, in the cool night air defying gravity and all laws of nature. He suddenly noticed that Mick's voice wasn't in his head that time; it was out loud, spoken right behind him.

"What the fuck do I do!?" Nikki swallowed.

_"Tuuuurn around, riiiight now!"_ Mick sang in a shitty, crackley tone that made himself laugh loudly. Nikki didn't find it very amusing, however, and let slip a guttural snarl.

_"Fucker, help me!"_ He yelled until his voice echoed on the stone alley walls. Maybe someone would walk by and see him, and jump up to yank his legs back to Earth.

"Help yourself; you're a capable young man. Besides, I've helped you enough already," Mick chuckled. _Fuck him!_

Nikki closed his eyes, and easily decided that he had nothing to fucking lose at that point. He tucked in his arms, and after just one long second of wobbling, managed to flip around to float on his back. His stained eyes opened to see Mick hovering above him, laying flat in the air so his long hair hung down and nearly grazed Nikki's face. And to no surprise at all, a shit eating grin spread upon his thin lips.

_"See? Not so bad."_ He winked at the bassist with a sweet soothing tone. Nikki noticed next that Mick's eyes were gold again, and his fangs were still out as they bit his bottom lip. It was honestly a rather annoyingly _adorable_ look, if what they were could ever be described as such. Had their current situation been any different, and Nikki might of slapped him across the face for looking so fucking _cute_. _Some killer vampire he was,_ the younger man mused.

"Well now what?" Nikki growled in frustration. Mick only answered by bending his legs slightly to tilt up, until he was standing on thin air above his bandmate.

_"Let's eat."_ The soft words made Nikki's stomach grumble, and that intense look Mick was giving him made his heart nearly do the same. He had to swallow before replying with a smi-natral tone.

"So, what? I c-can fly now?" Nikki glanced back at the ground, finally losing the lingering sense of dizziness.

"You'll get used to it."

"Fuck, how do I move?" Nikki looked back over at Mick, wobbling in the air slightly as if he were in an invisible hammock. _If only that were the case,_ he thought.

"Hammock sounds about right!" Mick giggled. Nikki inwardly cursed himself for not noticing Mick reading his mind again. But before he could snap at the older man, that pesky sense of calm took over again as Mick continued. "Just pretend you're getting out of a hammock and walking away. Trust me; you won't fall unless you want to." Mick drifted closer, lowering his tone as he floated down behind Nikki. "And I'll catch you if you do," He mumbled softly near Nikki's ear. The deep tone did very weird things to Nikki's stone cold heart, so he chose to quickly ignore it and do as he was told.

He closed his eyes, and imagined himself swaying in a glorious, white netted hammock off the coast of some shitty California beach. He wanted to get up to find a fucking Jack Daniel's, so that's just what he was going to do- he swung his legs over, sat up, ignored the sea breeze on the bottom of his very bare feet, and stood. _Easy fucking peasy, see?_ Nikki grinned as he began walking, pretending he was just high as a kite so that's why the sand underneath him felt like air. He could hear the ocean, smell the salt, feel the wind and sunshine on his skin. He would just walk down the street and pick up a goddamn drink, like any other totally normal human being. Nikki hadn't realize how much he missed the beach until his mirage was dancing in his head; he should really go more often... _Well, at least at nighttime now, anyways._

"See, you're just fine! Nice image by the way," Mick praised behind him. It snapped away Nikki's vivid daydream, leaving him back in the darkness behind his eyelids. 

_"Fucker,"_ He hissed, and reluctantly opened them. Only an ounce of instinctual fear flooded through him before dissolving in a split second, as he stared down at L.A. below. _"Holy shit,"_ He gasped. The awe and wonder of flying like a century old witch began to finally set in.

"Eh, more so _un_ -holy." Mick spoke closer to him, and Nikki turned to see the guitarist walking on air to stand just a foot away. That sly grin still pulled at his lips as he stared at the bassist, with his dark hair brushing across his pale face.

"How the fuck does no one see us up here?" Nikki looked away before he said something rather stupid in regards to Mick's innocent look, to instead stare at the countless dark windows littering the buildings around them.

"Because I don't want them to," Mick mumbled as if it should be obvious.

"You can do that?" 

"I can hide us, yes. Very important skill in this fucked up world." Mick winked again. He drifted a circle around Nikki, gazing out across the city as if he was looking for something.

"Uh, Mick, I don't mean to interrupt your old man ogling or anything, but I'm fucking _starving_ ," Nikki couldn't help but whine. His stomach felt like it was threatening to catch fire if he stood- or floated... _whatever_ \- around for any minute longer. 

" _Relax_ ," And Mick's thick tone made him do just that. The building impatience that came with hunger fizzled out as Nikki focused solely on his bandmate. "Come on then. And please keep up," Mick silently sighed. But before Nikki could ask what the fuck that meant, he was gone above him into the night sky, disappearing beyond the rooftops all around.

_"Fuck,"_ Nikki groaned _. Mick would really be the second death of him_. Nikki tucked his arms in, pointed his feet, and prepared to fly upwards just like his guitarist had- but nothing happened. There he remained, floating in the smog stained air of L.A., with the full moon taunting him carelessly. " _Motherfucker_ ," Nikki hissed a few more vulgar words of frustration as he tried again, only succeeding in standing stiff as a plank of wood, probably looking painfully hilarious. But as much as Nikki wanted to cry out for Mick to come help him, that stubborn part of his brain told him not to. _He could figure this out- it can't be that fucking hard. He had walked over here, so he could just float upwards too, right?_

Like the blood sucking from earlier, it was much easier said than done. Nikki wobbled around in the air another minute, at one point almost falling upside down, before he forced himself still and closed his eyes.

_Calm_. He needed to calm down. Mick made him feel calm, but Mick had ditched him. _Don't think about how irritating that was, just think about finding him again..._ His lungs were asking to breathe again with so much anger rising up, and that wasn't good. _Fuck Mick then_ \- if that old vampire didn't want to wait up, then Nikki didn't need his help. He was _fine_.

Now then...

Where was he? _Where was Nikki Sixx?_

Nikki decided that he was kneeling on Mick's bedroom floor. The soft carpet that made no sound beneath his feet was soft on his toes, his soles, and his knees. It was still, silent, the sun was shining without burning his skin and if he thought hard enough, he could imagine the color again. Mick probably wasn't one for spectacular interior design; Nikki was pretty sure his bed cover was a deep blue, his carpet grey, half his furniture black and the other half as old and wooden as him. _Ha... Funny, if it were true._ Nikki wanted to stand up, and find that little fucker. Probably make fun of that old bastard for such poor thought on any idea of home design or proper flow of zen.

_'Hey you.'_

Oh, there he was... Nikki could breathe again- maybe he was alive- at the sweet sound of Mick's sleepy voice. Nikki looked up at the bed, and saw his friend laying upon the sheets on his side as he gazed down at Nikki with hooded blue eyes and a darling smirk. _Nikki sure did miss those icy eyes..._ His black hair was messy as if he'd just woken up, falling over his neck in tangled strands.

_'Hey,'_ Nikki whispered back, unsure as to why. The moment felt so real in his head, so unfairly peaceful, that speaking any louder would maybe shatter it.

He stood up slowly onto his feet. But Mick and the bed remained just above his head, as if Nikki were still sitting on the floor. So he tried to step up again- and then again after that when he couldn't seem to reach the right hight. _'_ _Stop it,'_ He sighed in frustration as if Mick was purposely keeping him down, just out of reach. Either that or Mick's floor had just _miraculously_ turned to quicksand...

_'Come on,'_ Mick giggled and kneeled up on the bed, grunting with slight pain even in Nikki's vivid dream. He started down at Nikki as if the bassist were just a child on the floor, and held out his hand. Nikki ceased his pointless struggling to finally suck in a breath, and then eagerly reached for Mick's hand. It was cool to the touch just as it had been at the apartment, and when their skin met Nikki's world finally fell into place. He stepped up, with the help of his friend, and met Mick's eyes at an even level. He couldn't stop the grin that spread upon his face, baring two sharp fangs that suddenly teased his bottom lip. 

When Nikki blinked again, holding his eyes closed for a moment longer than needed, he opened them to see a much more real Mick staring back at him- small smile and all. Nikki blinked away the stay fragments of his daydream, the bed and colored cozy room fading yet again into the dark red city night. But Mick remained in front of him, as if he had shifted right from Nikki's mind back into the harsh reality around them- and his hand still gently held the younger man's close.

Nikki glanced down to where Mick's careful fingers remained wrapped around his own. It felt so soft, so true in a world of lies, and so right in every way... Mick's hand felt just like Nikki would maybe have imagined it would- soft, gentle, offering only love- albeit it was just a little bit colder. He blinked again, and met Mick's golden eyes.

He would never know such rich patience from anyone else. It was a Mick Mars specialty; an expression, an emotion, a thought, that brought such peace and love and kindness to Nikki's life, that he'd never of known how to even fathom it before his blood had boiled into something new.

_"How did you do that?"_ Nikki swallowed as he broke the silence along with a distant siren racing through the streets.

_"Mind control,"_ Mick wiggled his eyebrows as his tone grew comedic, and Nikki couldn't contain the giggle that bubbled up in his starving throat. _That old fucker, always so awful at jokes. And yet there he was; floating in the sky holding hands with him, laughing at such awful humor._ "Come on, let's eat now that you can fly like a big boy," Mick winked, and gently dropped Nikki's hand.

And how exactly Nikki knew to keep up with Mick, flying through the night sky between an abyss of stars and jungle of concrete, he didn't know. But maybe he wasn't supposed to know- the wind on his face, the air beneath his feet, and the clouds that shrouded them from the painful world far below felt more like home than any house he'd ever lived in. And Mick didn't leave him up there all alone in the sky- he stayed near to Nikki, sure to catch him in time if ever he fell.

And Nikki hollered, howled, laughed, cried tears of joy under a moon that touched only them, as he flew with Mick far into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh shit- this is still a love story!  
> Where's Tommy gone to? Will Nikki ever get his shoes back? And what about Vince? Questions you may ask, and all shall be answered in due time...


End file.
